The Things They Carried
by lolitarun
Summary: The agents of Graceland are masters of keeping secrets. But sometimes, secrets have a way of coming back to haunt you.
1. Backstory

**The Things They Carried**

_Summary:_ The agents of Graceland are masters of keeping secrets. But sometimes, secrets have a way of coming back to haunt you.

_Disclaimer:_ I own nothing; _Graceland_ belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA.

_A/n:_ So I'm a bit obsessed with _Graceland_. This idea just kind of came to me while I was glancing through some of the other fics posted here.

* * *

He was the sixth of nine children. Angela, Christine, Christopher, Jennifer, Robert, Michael, Lindsay, Hollie, and Gregory. Except Robert was now Robyn and not really welcome at family functions, and Angela had died of cancer sixteen years earlier. But no one at Graceland knew anything about all of that.

"So seriously, which frat were you in?" Mike raised an eyebrow at Paige's question, putting the spoon back into his cereal bowl.

"I don't know what you're talking about…"

"You're pretty much the WASP-y white frat boy stereotype personified… I just kind of assumed…"

"I wasn't a frat boy. And I'm definitely not a WASP… I was raised Roman Catholic."

"But I've never seen you cross yourself or carry a rosary or anything like that," Charlie replied.

"I said I was raised Catholic. I didn't say I still believed." Mike went back to his breakfast, trying to ignore the quizzical look on Paige's face. "I wish you wouldn't stare at me…"

"I'm just trying to figure you out…"

"Figure me out?" Mike set down his glass of orange juice, raising his eyebrow at her again.

"Everyone here keeps secrets, Mike. But it seems like you keep more than anyone. You never talk about your family, or wherever you're from. No past, no school… none of it."

Mike shrugged. "I've never thought it was important…"

"You don't even call your mom…"

"My mom died when I was ten."

"I'm sorry…" Paige began.

"Don't be. She was really messed up… when my sister died she kind of lost it. She kept going to the hospital, yelling at the nurses for not letting her see Angela… it got to the point that she even had the cops called on her a few times. About six months after it happened, she left my little brother with a neighbor and then locked herself in the garage and turned the car on."

"Shit…" Mike shrugged. "Who found her?"

"The neighbors… they got worried when she didn't leave the house or show up again after a couple of hours. She was in a coma for a few hours in the hospital, and then she had a heart attack and died. I didn't even know how she'd died until five or six years later."

"You act as though it doesn't really bother you…"

"Because it doesn't. Not anymore."

"Is that why you're willingly seeing that Bureau shrink every week? Family history of mental illness?" Mike shrugged.

"She was never actually diagnosed with a mental illness. I see the shrink because I was told I had to."

"So you aren't worried about inheriting a predisposition for psychological issues?"

"Why do I feel like you're interrogating me here?" Mike crossed his arms, turning around to face Paige again.

"It's not an interrogation. You don't have to answer any of my questions, and you can walk away at any time." Mike couldn't help but laugh at the bad joke. "I'm sorry, if I'm asking too many questions. I just want to know more about you. Just like I want to know more about everyone else in this messed-up freakshow they call a crash house."

"What ever happened to secrets keeping us safe?"

"Outside these walls, yeah. Secrets keep us safe. But I prefer to trust the people I'm living with… especially when I occasionally need help getting out of a delicate situation."

"Like with Bobby Moi."

"For an example, yeah. Now, I have to go talk to a junkie in lockup who's trying to cut a deal and become a CI… says she has deep connections with her supplier."

"You believe her?" Mike asked.

"She's been a mule before. Went to Thailand for sex-reassignment surgery a few years ago and claims she smuggled in a shit-ton of stuff on her way back. The trip to Thailand checks out, and we know that a lot of drugs come back with American tourists… plus, we always have the option of throwing her in jail and reinstating the charges against her at any time if she fails to produce good information."

"She's a druggie…"

"She's desperate. And they'll tell the truth when they know their asses are on the line."

* * *

"I might have a problem I need your help with." Mike turned to look at Paige as she sat down next to him on the sand.

"What kind of problem?"

"I think you might know my new CI…"

"What makes you say that?" Mike asked.

"Because Robyn looks a hell of a lot like a female version of you, and her last name is Warren." Mike turned back to the ocean, mouth open in surprise. "And that look right there confirms my suspicion."

"I… didn't know Robyn was a junkie."

"What do you know about her? Do you think I can trust her?" Paige asked.

"I haven't actually seen or spoken to Robyn in years. My dad and step-mom disowned her when she came out as transgendered… she called and e-mailed with me for a while after that, but she stopped responding when I started talking about going to Quantico…" Mike looked down at the sand for a moment. "We were really close as kids. But I don't really know her anymore…"

"My new CI is your sister?" Mike nodded.

"Sounds like it."

"Shit…"

"I wish you could tell her you know me… that I want to talk to her again…"

"You know I can't do that… you're undercover, and that could compromise your cases."

"I know. It would just be nice to get to see my sister again… I was the only one she kept in touch with after all of that shit went down with our dad. I'm sure she needs someone…"

"I can't let you talk with her. If she contacts you on her own, it's cool, but you can't start reaching out to her just because you know where she is now…"

"Paige, I spent two years trying to contact her after she quit calling me. I've given up trying to get Robyn to talk to me."

"Promise me… no attempts to contact her for any reason. No telling her anything if she contacts you. And no telling anyone in the family that you know where she is or that she's working with us."

"I promise. Even though I don't think it's going to become an issue… clearly my becoming an agent was a problem for her."

"She's in a lot of trouble, Levi… if you're the last person in the family she's had contact with, you're probably first on her list to go to. Trust me, I know how junkies operate."


	2. Threats

**The Things They Carried**

_Summary:_ The agents of Graceland are masters of keeping secrets. But sometimes, secrets have a way of coming back to haunt you.

_Disclaimer:_ I own nothing; _Graceland_ belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA.

_A/n:_ Hmm… where is this going? *smirks* You'll just have to keep reading to find out…

* * *

The sound of a phone ringing at two o'clock in the morning was not welcome, but Mike knew he had to answer. If it was something related to a case, he could lose his job for ignoring it. And no one would call at that hour without good reason. "Hello?"

"_M-Mikey?"_ Mike sat up, suddenly worried. The person on the other end of the line sounded terrified of something, and they were whispering instead of talking normally. _"Help me…"_

"Who is this?"

"_It's Robyn…"_ Mike felt his heart skip a beat. Even though Paige had warned him this might happen, he hadn't actually expected to hear from the woman.

"Robyn…"

"_I'm in trouble, Mikey… I know you're in the FBI, you can get me out of this…"_

"Out of what?" Mike asked. He knew he had to play dumb; it would protect him, it would protect Paige. But most of all, it would protect Graceland.

"_I got caught with some drugs, and now they want me to rat on my supplier and I can't do that without getting myself killed…"_ Mike sighed.

"I can't get you out of something like that, Robyn…"

"_You're a federal agent…"_

"How do you know anything about me, Robyn? You're the one who stopped talking to me… three years ago."

"_Please, Mikey… you're the only person I could think of to call…"_ Mike sighed.

"Where are you?"

"_Ventura, California…"_

"Robyn, I'm in DC… I don't even know…"

"_I saw you in Long Beach two days ago."_ Mike was surprised, but he recovered quickly.

"I was there on vacation… I just got back last night." Mike sighed. "And if you saw me, why the hell didn't you come say something to me? I haven't seen you in three years, Robyn…"

"_You didn't exactly look like you wanted to be bothered… you were with your DEA agent girlfriend…"_ Mike swallowed, hard. _"Don't even try to lie to me, Mikey. I know Paige. She's the agent they want me to be in contact with. And I know that you know her and can get in contact with her."_

"Shit… Robyn…"

"_You're going to help me, Mike. I'm your sister…"_

"I'm a federal agent, Robyn… I can't just intervene and get you out of this just because you're my sister. I could get in serious trouble for interfering with an investigation…" Mike began.

"_I'm in serious trouble here, Mikey! Please, just talk to your girlfriend and see if you can get them off my ass here… I can't do what they're asking of me, and I can't go to jail…"_

"Maybe you should have thought of that before you got involved with drugs, Robyn…"

"_I know things about you, Mike. Don't forget that…"_

"You don't scare me, Robyn."

"_I could get you fired."_

"You could do a lot worse than get me fired if you wanted to. But I don't think you actually would…" Mike replied. "Look, Robyn… I'd help you if I could. But I'm three thousand miles away and my hands are tied here… I can't do anything for you. I'm sorry."

"_You're going to regret this…"_ Mike sighed as the line went dead.

* * *

By breakfast time, Mike was thoroughly exhausted. He hadn't gone back to sleep after Robyn's phone call; he'd been too worried about what secrets she would use against him. Robyn knew Mike better than anyone. They were siblings – almost two years apart in age, but only separated by one grade in school. Mike had been the first person to know about Robyn, and Robyn had known all of Mike's deepest, darkest secrets.

"You look like shit, man…" Johnny began. "What happened? You hungover or something?"

"Or something," Mike replied, walking over and putting a hand on Paige's shoulder. "Can I talk to you for a second? In private?" Mike could see the raised eyebrow, but the woman stood up and followed him out onto the balcony overlooking the beach.

"What's wrong?"

"She contacted me this morning, about two AM. Asked me to get her out of her agreement to be a CI…"

"What did you tell her?" Paige asked.

"That I was in DC and my hands were tied… I couldn't do anything for her without risking my job. She threatened to get me fired…" Mike watched as Paige started to laugh. "It's not funny… she probably could if she actually tried. Robyn knows pretty much everything about me, up until the last few years."

"I find it hard to believe there's anything in your past that could get you fired from the Bureau…"

"You'd be surprised. And that isn't the only problem… she knows that I know you." That changed the look on Paige's face quickly.

"Shit…"

"Yeah."

"Which means she could easily burn either of us, if she figures it out…" Paige shook her head, pulling out her cell phone.

"You're having her arrested?" Mike asked.

"I have to, Mikey… she's a danger to us and to Graceland. And I'm not going to let your junkie sister burn us…" Mike nodded, sighing.

"Just make the call."

"I'm sorry, okay? I don't want to do this to your family…"

"Just make the call, Paige." Mike watched as Paige nodded and dialed a number on her phone, walking away from him for a little privacy. He sighed, shaking his head and going back into the house to grab something to eat.

"What was all that about?" Johnny asked.

"It's nothing, Johnny."

"You two go out partying last night and get a little freaky or something?" Mike shook his head, sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I wish it were something that simple…" Mike sighed, getting a bowl out of the cupboard and starting to make himself some cereal.

"Shit, man… if you call that simple, I'd hate to know what's so complicated."

"Paige's new CI knows me. And she knows that I know Paige."

"That's not good…"

"That's barely scratching the surface of all the things that aren't good about this situation. Paige is working right now on getting her arrested and back in custody, before she does something stupid and burns one of us… or potentially all of us."

"But… how? What does this CI know that could fuck us all up this badly?" Johnny asked.

"Every secret I've ever had, up until about three years ago." Mike sighed at the confused look on Johnny's face. "It's my sister, Johnny. She thinks I'm in DC and that Paige is my girlfriend, but if she sees me on the streets again she could put two and two together and potentially really fuck us over…"

"But… would your sister really do that? I mean, she's family…"

"We haven't spoken in three years, and last night at two AM she threatened to find a way to get me fired if I didn't help her get out of her deal with the DEA. That's not something family does, Johnny."

"What does she have on you? What did you not tell the FBI that could potentially get you fired?" Johnny asked. Mike looked over at the man, noting that he had a look of concern on his face rather than a look that indicated he was looking for more ammunition for teasing Mike. But that didn't mean Mike felt comfortable answering that particular question.

"I'm not… she has a lot of dirt on me, okay? We were best friends growing up, and if she's as much of a druggie as Paige says, she's going to find a way to manipulate the truth to her advantage if she needs to."

"But they aren't going to take the word of a junkie over a federal agent… not without some kind of proof. And if there was proof about anything she might say to them, the Bureau would have found it before you were accepted into Quantico and stopped you from joining to begin with."

"Maybe there are things that wouldn't have shown up in a background check…"

"Like what?"

"I don't want to talk about it, Johnny."

"Just… it's not going to interfere with you doing your job, is it?"

"I wouldn't have come here if it would."


	3. Secrets & Lies

**The Things They Carried**

_Summary:_ The agents of Graceland are masters of keeping secrets. But sometimes, secrets have a way of coming back to haunt you.

_Disclaimer:_ I own nothing; _Graceland_ belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA.

_A/n:_ So yeah, I apologize for the wait on the new chapter; I'm kind of busy right about now, between the show I'm working on opening tomorrow and prepping for a conference at the end of next month. But I hope you all enjoy, now that you're going to know (one of) Mike's secret(s)!

* * *

Mike watched his cell phone, waiting for the call from Paige letting him know that Robyn was back in custody. As soon as Gerry had heard about the situation, he'd put Mike on lockdown in the house until Robyn was locked up and no longer a threat to his cover. He raised an eyebrow as an unfamiliar phone number popped up on the screen, choosing to let it go to voicemail so that the line would be available when Paige called, without the awkwardness of putting someone on hold.

"Staring at the phone isn't going to make that call come any faster." Mike looked up at Briggs, shaking his head.

"I don't exactly know what else to do with myself… I spent most of the morning cleaning, and there isn't really anything else to _do_ around here…" Mike replied.

"How the hell is your sister a drug addict, anyway? You're such a…"

"WASP-y frat boy type?"

"Something like that, yeah…"

"My dad disowned Robyn about a decade ago. About the time she started going by Robyn rather than Robert."

"Oh…" Mike nodded.

"It just gets worse from there… I understand how she got there, after the way she was treated. Friends, family… everyone abandoned her. Everyone but me. And I had to keep it a secret from all of them. Which is probably why she now apparently hates me…"

"That's pretty fucked up."

"Tell me about it." Mike sighed. "The worst part is, if it wasn't for this trick, I would have told Paige to trust her. Which means Paige could have gotten burned, and my sister would have been to blame…"

"You think your sister would have burned Paige?"

"To save herself? I don't think I would put it past her… she's not the same person I knew growing up. Not any more."

"Michael Joseph Warren, I swear to God…" Mike looked up at the sound of Paige's voice coming from the front door. "Upstairs. Now." Mike couldn't help flinching at the sound of her voice.

"Paige, calm down…" Briggs began.

"Stay out of it, Paul. This is between me and Levi."

"It's fine, Briggs. Paige and I need to talk about this…" Mike followed the woman up to her room quietly, knowing that he wasn't going to like what was about to happen. As soon as the door closed, Mike crossed his arms and looked Paige dead in the eye.

"What did she say about me?"

"I'm asking the fucking questions here, Mike… damn it, I don't even know how to deal with you right now. How the hell did you keep _that_ a secret from the Bureau?!" Mike sighed, shaking his head.

"You have to be more specific than that…"

"There's more in your past than a psych history that could keep you out of the Bureau?" Mike sighed, shaking his head. "How the hell do you hide something like that? And why would you?"

"I wanted to be an agent… and I was afraid they wouldn't look into _what_ it was, that they would just see a hospital psych eval and throw out my application before I even got a chance to explain…"

"Yeah? Well you'd better start explaining fast, because I should be calling Gerry and the Bureau right now to tell them about the lies you've been telling them." Mike closed his eyes, sighing and shaking his head. "Don't even think about lying to me this time, Mike. I can check your story…"

"Against the word of a junkie," Mike replied. "Who's trying to blackmail a federal agent, so not exactly the most trustworthy of sources."

"Tell me the truth, Warren…"

"I told you my mom died when I was ten… I had a hard time with it. I mean, it was hard on all of us, but it really messed me up for a while. We moved four or five times over the next year or so, changing schools, trying to get our lives back together. I… everything was so out of control, and I just wanted to be in control of _something_ for a change. I was a fat kid, and it was easy to go down that path…" Mike watched as Paige sighed, closing her eyes and shaking her head.

"You're a liability…"

"I've been in recovery for over a decade, Paige… I haven't had a single relapse since I was fifteen, and I've got it under control."

"One wrong move, Mike…" the woman began. He sighed, crossing his arms.

"You think I don't know that?" Mike shook his head. "I've spent years working on this, Paige. I haven't restricted or purged or anything like that since I was fifteen. I fight those urges every day, at every meal and every time I go for a run or anything like that. And I don't give in…"

"What's going to happen when you do, Mike? What happens when you slip up and start starving yourself again?" Mike could feel the muscles in his jaw tighten, grinding his teeth together as he pulled out his cell phone and scrolled through the contact list until he found the right number, turning and showing it to Paige.

"I call my therapist."

"And then you pretend like nothing's wrong around here, while you're putting yourself and everyone you work with in danger by not being at the top of your game when you're under cover…" Paige accused.

"I would never go out on a case if I wasn't capable of doing the job, Paige."

"Maybe not intentionally… but I don't see how I can trust you when you lied to the Bureau…"

"This job means too much to me. I'm not lying to you, and I wouldn't put a case or another agent in jeopardy if it came down to that. But it won't, because I've got this under control."

"I want to believe you." Mike watched as Paige sat down, sighing. "You're a good agent. And I don't want you to lose your job over something you did a decade ago… but this is serious, Mike. What was it, exactly?"

Mike shrugged, sighing. "It varied… changed as time went on. I went through phases of bulimia, but mostly it was anorexia. Usually a purging sub-type… everything that went in my mouth came back up for a year or so, and I didn't eat much to begin with," Mike admitted. He sighed, shaking his head. "The worst part is that she _knows_ how difficult that was for me, and that I don't talk about it. We were so close…"

"Just goes to show that you can't even trust your own family…" Paige began. Mike shoved his hands into his pockets. "I don't want to screw you up, okay? But I can't just ignore that you've got some serious issues in your past…"

"Okay… but what do you expect me to do, Paige? I can't just tell the Bureau I'm in recovery for an eating disorder. I'd be fired before I could even attempt to explain myself…"

"Just… promise me you'll let me know when you're struggling? So that I can keep an eye on you…" Mike watched the woman for a moment, trying to figure out why she'd asked him to make that particular promise. "I like you, kid… and I don't want to see you kicked out of Graceland over something like this. But I'm also not going to let you just act like nothing is wrong and let things get out of hand when you break."

"It's been eleven years, Paige. I don't think I'm going to have a relapse at this point…"

"You're not invincible, Levi."

"I never suggested that I was. But I've been fighting this, and I've been working through my problems for a long, long time now. I know what to do when things go wrong…" Mike replied.

"But having another set of eyes watching out for you can't hurt." Mike sighed, nodding and closing his eyes.

"I'll keep you posted."

"I'm being serious, Mike."

"I promise you, Paige, I'll talk to you if anything comes up. But I think you're wasting your time making me promise… I'm going to be fine." Mike looked up as he heard a knock at the door, sighing.

"Come in."

"Is everything okay?" Mike had hoped it wouldn't be Briggs opening the door, but clearly luck wasn't on his side.

"It's fine," Mike replied, before Paige could say a word. He could tell that Briggs didn't believe him by the way the man glanced back and forth between the two of them for a moment.

"Yeah… I'm not buying that."

"It's just a misunderstanding, Paul," Paige replied. "We've sorted it out, everything's good now."

"Again, not buying it. You were pissed as hell when you got here, and now suddenly there's nothing wrong?" Mike watched as Briggs crossed his arms, shaking his head. "I want the truth. Whatever's going on, I think that as the senior agent at Graceland I have a right to know."

"You're not pulling rank on me, Briggs. I'm not FBI," Paige replied.

"Maybe I can't… but I can sure as hell pull rank on Mikey, here." Mike closed his eyes as the man turned to him. "So I want to know what's going on with your sister, and what you've been hiding from the FBI that you think is going to get your ass fired."

"It's nothing, Briggs…" Paige began.

"You've already said you aren't going to answer my question, Paige, so I'm asking Mike. Not you." Mike shifted uncomfortably, looking down at the ground under the man's gaze. "Look, I'm probably the person least likely to turn you in for whatever it is, alright? Not unless this is something that's going to come back and bite us in the ass…"

"It's not going to cause you any problems, Briggs. I can promise you that."

"Then why do you think you have to keep it a secret?"


	4. Suspicion

**The Things They Carried**

_Summary:_ The agents of Graceland are masters of keeping secrets. But sometimes, secrets have a way of coming back to haunt you.

_Disclaimer:_ I own nothing; _Graceland_ belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA.

_A/n:_ So I know it's been a few days, but I was busy! I worked a 3-week summer drama program, and between that and my other job I've only had 2 days off in the past 3.5 weeks… so yeah. Anyways – enjoy!

* * *

Mike couldn't help feeling like an animal in the zoo, considering how Paige and Briggs watched him. It was for different reasons, of course; Paige because she knew his secret, and Briggs because he knew he'd been lied to. Mike hadn't been able to bring himself to tell the truth when Briggs questioned him, so he'd come up with some half-assed excuse about leaving the scene of an accident when he'd first started driving at sixteen – Briggs didn't need to know that Mike hadn't gotten his license until he was eighteen.

But Mike couldn't help but get annoyed at the fact that Paige seemed to always watch him out of the corner of her eye at meal times. It was starting to drive him nuts, and he couldn't help but corner her out on one of the balconies first chance he got.

"You do realize that you're going to give away my secret if you keep staring at me like that all the time, don't you?"

"I'm not trying to do anything like that…" Mike sighed.

"Look, I get that you're worried about me. But you can't let it show, Paige. I have to keep this secret… you wanted to know the truth, and now you know. But you really have to stop acting like something is wrong every time we sit down to a meal. We live in a house full of federal agents… if they haven't noticed already, they will very, very soon…"

"I'm sorry… I just feel like I need to make sure you're eating…"

"I promised you, Paige," Mike replied. "This is me talking… not one of my covers. The real Mike Warren. And I don't break promises."

"You've done a hell of a lot of lying, Mike…"

"So have you. So has everyone else in this house."

"Not about hurting ourselves…"

"I haven't relapsed. And I'm not going to."

"Sauce night. You didn't eat anything at all that day," Paige replied. "I didn't think about it at first, but you said you'd skipped two meals and then you never ate your spaghetti that night."

"It was one day, and I think being that stressed out gives me a pretty good excuse for not being able to eat my dinner. In case you forgot, I'd just seen Eddie blow his brains out."

"It only takes one slip-up, Mike…" Mike crossed his arms, suddenly confused.

"What do you even know about it, Paige? I'm the one that's been through all the therapy and the years of recovery…"

"I've seen it." Mike could tell that Paige didn't want to talk about it; she crossed her arms and looked away from him, setting her jaw for a moment.

"You don't have to tell me…"

"It was my sister. My _twin_ sister. So don't tell me I don't know what's going on, because I know a hell of a lot more than you realize," Paige replied. "She said she was in recovery, that she was doing well… and then one day, her heart stopped. She'd been binging and purging again for six months, without anyone realizing it."

"I'm sorry, Paige…"

"I have good reason to worry, alright?"

"Just… try to tone it down. Make it less obvious. Briggs is already suspicious, and I don't want everyone around here breathing down my neck trying to figure out what's going on." Mike could tell the woman was still upset, so he wrapped her in a quick hug. "I really am sorry about your sister. It's hell… from both sides of the story."

"Now you know one of my secrets, too. And I don't want that one getting out around here any more than you want me to tell yours… I don't like talking about my sister." Mike nodded, sighing.

"Of course."

"Hey, Mike, you've got a message from Bello…" Mike turned around as he heard Briggs' voice.

"Yeah… I'm coming." Mike was surprised to find there wasn't a light indicating any kind of message on the phone he used for contacting Bello when they arrived in the phone room. "I thought you said I had a message from…"

"I just needed to talk to you away from Paige." Mike crossed his arms, looking over at the man. "What the hell's going on, Warren? Paige is watching you like a hawk, and that doesn't jive with the story you gave me about leaving the scene of an accident…"

"Sir, with all due respect… I've told you what happened and I'm not sure what else you want me to say…"

"I want the truth. I don't buy that shit about leaving the scene of an accident, and it doesn't explain why Paige always seems to be watching you out of the corner of her eye…" Mike shrugged, sighing.

"I can't control what Paige does. Maybe she doesn't believe me either… maybe she's trying to catch me in a lie that doesn't even exist," Mike replied. He watched as Briggs thought for a second, before putting his hand up to his mouth – something Mike had quickly discovered Briggs had a tendency to do when he was thinking, as if he used to bite his nails.

"I don't believe a word of that."

"I can't control what you believe. All I can do is tell you the truth."

"Except you're lying to me. It always takes you just a little too long to respond when you're lying. It's just a split second, but it's always there." Mike raised an eyebrow. "I always look for the tell. And I had yours figured out the day you got here. I know you've got a lot of secrets you're trying to keep from me and everyone else in this house. But I'm only asking you about one of them… so I want you to tell me the truth: what did you tell Paige?"

"Why does it matter?" Mike asked, crossing his arms.

"Because I'm working with you on the Bello case, and I need to know whether or not this is something that's going to potentially screw us over…"

"It won't."

"Why should I believe that?"

"Because I have no reason to lie to you about that… I want this guy in custody as much as you do. If this secret could jeopardize that, I would tell you. If it becomes a problem, I'll back out and take care of it."

"Mike, you may not realize it, but there is no backing out and taking care of it. You're in with one of the biggest heroin dealers in the country… and you either play ball with him, or you die. There is no lie to get you out of the job free and clear."

"Maybe not… but there are lies to buy me time to take care of it."

"No, Mike. There aren't. You're in this one for the long haul, and unless we get Bello and his crew in jail you can't leave. Period." Mike looked up as one of the phones started to ring, realizing it was Bello calling for Briggs. "I have to answer that. Don't go anywhere."

Mike leaned against the wall as Briggs answered the phone, listening in on his conversation with Bello. "Yes, sir… Yes, I'll bring him…" Mike sighed. He wasn't really in the mood to deal with another meeting with Bello, but he knew that he had to keep up his cover. "An hour?... No, no problem. I just have to get Mike…"

Mike started dialing out to Silvo before Briggs had even hung up the phone, setting up the TAC team as a backup just in case. "I've got to go get changed…"

"This conversation isn't over, Mike."

"I know."

"Go get your ass ready… we don't have much time."

Mike was dressed and out in Briggs' Jeep in record time, chewing on his thumbnail as the older man started driving towards their designated rendezvous with their target. Most of the ride was silent, but Mike could tell that Briggs was just waiting for the right moment – most likely after their meeting.

"Look, I know you're just going to ask again and again until I tell you what's going on. But right now, we both need to focus on the lies we've told Bello so far and getting through this meeting without getting burned." Mike sighed. "What do you think is going on? What does Bello want?"

"I don't know… but my guess is that he wants you to get him some more ammo."

"Why does he need you for that? He has direct access to me… I've been out there half a dozen times on my own, training his guys."

"I don't know. Which is what concerns me about all of this."


	5. Truths

**The Things They Carried**

_Summary:_ The agents of Graceland are masters of keeping secrets. But sometimes, secrets have a way of coming back to haunt you.

_Disclaimer:_ I own nothing; _Graceland_ belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA.

_A/n:_ New chapter… part of which I wrote while watching Aaron on an episode of SVU (I can safely say I DON'T like him that much as a tree hugger… but I think it's just the character's holier-than-thou attitude that bugged me). Hope you all enjoy!

* * *

"With all due respect, sir, I don't know that I can do that…"

"Michael, Michael, Michael…" Mike didn't like the way Bello paused, with a smile on his face that indicated he really wasn't happy. "I am not _asking_ you to do it. I am telling you that you _will_ get me more of those bullets. You have access and opportunity… and I do not know of anyone else who can help me."

"I understand that, sir. But those bullets aren't easy to come by… it may take me some time to…"

"Have I given you a deadline, Michael?" Bello asked.

"No, sir."

"You will get them. And when you get them, you will bring them to me. The same price as before."

"He'll get them." Mike looked at Briggs, a little surprised at the man's willingness to put Mike's ass on the line.

"Good. That is the kind of attitude I want to see from you, Michael."

"Yes, sir." Mike watched as Bello seemed to size them up for a moment, before nodding and walking away, making his henchmen follow him with a snap of his fingers. Mike and Briggs waited until he was out of sight before they headed back to the Jeep silently.

"You've got to be kidding me…" Mike began, once they were a decent distance away from their usual rendezvous point with Bello, making a heat run before returning to Graceland.

"It's not a big deal, Mike… we'll figure it all out…"

"He expects me to get him more cop killers, Briggs… Jakes already destroyed what he got off the Jamaicans, and those things aren't easy to come by. How the hell are we supposed to deliver on that promise?" Mike asked.

"Like I said, we'll figure it out." Mike shook his head, staring out the window. "Do you have some kind of control issues or something? You seem to get all worked up and annoyed every time I do something that you don't understand…"

"Can we _not_ talk about this, please?"

"Yeah, no… we're talking about this." Mike shook his head, making sure his watch wasn't transmitting.

"Turn off the damn transmitter."

"It's been off since Bello left." Mike glanced over at the other man. "Now, tell me what's going on. Everything. The secret you told Paige, why you're so worked up over not being in control here… all of it."

"I've got some obsessive-compulsive tendencies…" Mike began.

"And you joined the Bureau… why, exactly?" Briggs asked.

"I wasn't exactly planning on being undercover when I joined the Bureau. Graceland wasn't my first choice…"

"I know. You requested DC." Mike nodded.

"Yeah, I did. But I was assigned here instead."

"Any idea why?" Briggs asked. Mike shrugged, being careful to avoid anything he knew would give him away.

"I don't know… but you go where you're assigned and you do your job."

"I'm guessing these tendencies have something to do with whatever the big secret is?"

"I was a wreck when my mom died… she committed suicide when I was ten, after we lost my older sister to cancer…"

"Shit, man… I'm sorry…"

"I'm only telling you because it's important to the story. It was a long time ago, and I'm good with all of that now." Mike took a deep breath, sighing. "Like I said, I was a wreck… we kept moving, I just couldn't deal with it…" Mike closed his eyes. "I stopped eating. Started throwing up what little I _did_ eat, when no one was looking. Lost a lot of weight…"

"You had an eating disorder?" Briggs asked.

"Multiple. The diagnosis changed a few times, depending on the symptoms I was showing at the time. But I can promise you, it won't affect my ability to do the job… I've been in recovery for over a decade. I'm taking care of myself, keeping in contact with my therapist…"

"Mike, shut up for a minute and let me process this…" Mike did as he was told, nodding. "You're really okay?"

"Yeah, I am."

"Sauce night?" Briggs asked.

"Bad timing… sometimes when I'm really upset or stressed out, I'll still miss meals. But I don't let it get out of hand."

"You were hospitalized?" Briggs asked.

"Briefly, yeah… I was twelve. I passed out in the middle of a class before anyone in my family realized that anything was really wrong…"

"And this is what you're afraid will get you fired from the Bureau?"

"I hid it from them. I purposely left it off my paperwork, and did everything in my power to keep the Bureau from finding out about it. Because I was afraid they wouldn't let me into Quantico if they knew I had any kind of psych history…"

"I've heard of agents doing a lot worse and barely getting a slap on the wrist, Mike…" Mike shrugged, sighing. "Have you thought about coming clean? Getting this one off your chest?"

"I thought that was what I was doing," Mike replied.

"But I'm not going to do anything about it." Mike glanced over at the man, raising an eyebrow. "At least, I'm not going to turn you in. That's on you, if you want to tell people or not. I can highly recommend that you get this off your chest, but I don't think it'll do any good for me to tell you that you _have_ to turn yourself in."

"I don't normally talk about this stuff. To anyone. No one I knew in college even knew…"

"You aren't going to tell Silvo, are you?"

"I don't know what I'm going to do, Briggs. I… I don't want Robyn to have something to hold over my head like this, but I also don't particularly want to deal with the repercussions of everyone knowing my secrets."

"There are no secrets at Graceland."

"Says the guy who's keeping some pretty big secrets of his own…" Mike began. "I don't know what happened, but according to Charlie it must have been pretty damn big. She said you were like me – by the book – until you had some kind of mid-life crisis and disappeared for a few months."

"We're not talking about me here, Mike… we're talking about what you're going to do about your situation."

"It's a little hypocritical of you to be pumping me for my secrets, when you're hiding something big." Mike looked back out the windshield as he spoke, surprised when Briggs pulled over. "We're supposed to be doing a heat run…"

"Well, now we're going to talk. Get out."

"What?" Mike raised an eyebrow as the older man started to undo his seatbelt and get out of the vehicle.

"Get out of my car. We're going for a walk." Mike looked around, more than a little nervous about the idea. It was starting to get dark and they weren't exactly in a good neighborhood. Even though he was an undercover agent, he didn't really feel like tempting fate by wandering around somewhere dangerous after dark. But he followed Briggs's lead, doing his best to hide his trepidation.

They were a couple of blocks away from the Jeep before Briggs turned to him, crossing his arms. "You really want to know what happened? Why I'm no longer following the manual to the letter?"

"Yeah, I do."

"A few years ago, I was working a pretty big drug ring. Not as big as Bello, but they were into a lot of bad shit to keep their territory. I'd been in with them for a few months, and there was this one kid that always hung around with them but didn't actually participate. He was twelve, maybe thirteen, and his brother had been a big part of the group. One of the gangs in the area had taken this kid's brother out, big time, and they were watching out for the kid at his brother's request… and I made the mistake of getting too close to him, trying to find a way to get him the hell out of there before shit went down.

"We were less than 24 hours from busting these guys, and I was with them, in that building…" Mike glanced across the street, at the nondescript building Briggs was indicating. "The kid was walking back from school… one of the gang members found him, brought him right here, and shot him while we were all watching. We still managed to take down the drug ring, but… I didn't see the point after that, when I couldn't even save that kid. I had a chance to get him out of that lifestyle, to save him from all of that shit, and I failed. It took me a long time to forgive myself for what happened."

"But you weren't really responsible for that… that was on his brother."

"Mike, I could have gotten him out. Made him and his mother disappear. But I didn't realize just how badly that gang wanted the kid dead."

"We can't save everyone, Briggs. And you couldn't have really gotten him out – not without putting your cover at risk…" Mike began.

"I know that now. I really do. But I was so pissed off at the world, I wasn't thinking clearly at the time. I started drinking, stopped caring about the FBI's rules. I was just about to get my ass handed to me by the Bureau when I decided to take some time off, figure out whether or not I actually wanted to do this job. I disappeared for a while, got my head on straight, and came back to do the job." Mike nodded, sighing. "I can't force you to do anything, Mike. But I can highly recommend taking care of this _before_ it becomes an issue."


	6. Currents

**The Things They Carried**

_Summary:_ The agents of Graceland are masters of keeping secrets. But sometimes, secrets have a way of coming back to haunt you.

_Disclaimer:_ I own nothing; _Graceland_ belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA.

_A/n:_ Hmm… I think it's time to play "How many readers are going to hate me at the end of this chapter?" I'm sorry, but… you'll understand later.

* * *

Mike had picked up a lot of new habits in his time at Graceland, but the most helpful seemed to be surfing. He was still pretty awful at it – he couldn't stay on his board very long, if he could get on his feet at all – but it helped him think. And given how serious his current situation was, he _needed_ some time to think on his own. So instead of going on his usual morning run, he put on a wet suit and grabbed the spare board from the garage to go out on his own.

The water was pretty chilly as he paddled out into the ocean near their usual surfing spot, going out to where the waves were starting to break and getting ready to wait for a good wave. He still wasn't very good at picking waves, so he ended up missing a few really good ones before he actually attempted to get up on a wave, riding it for a few seconds before he lost his balance and fell backwards into the water. He fell over and over again, starting to get frustrated as the sun rose higher in the sky. He still wasn't any closer to figuring out what he was going to do, and he would eventually have to get out of the water to go get ready for a day of work.

After an hour or so of miserably failing at surfing, Mike finally paddled out for his last attempt, knowing that he needed to shower and get something to eat. It took a minute for him to find a decent wave and actually get up on the board. Things were going well, until he realized he was getting entirely too close to the pier. He did his best to steer right, away from the structure, but it was difficult to fight the ocean's currents and he was going down before he even really knew what was happening.

The currents were rough and Mike could feel himself being thrown around in the water even as he tried to get his head back above the waves. He was running out of oxygen quickly, and the current was too strong as it tossed him into the pier. Everything went black for a moment, but he was still coherent enough to realize that his head had broken the surface for a moment and he took a deep breath before the current pulled him back under.

* * *

Charlie hated dealing with alcoholic CIs, but it was part of the job – the part that made her walk home from the bars at six or seven in the morning, still in her party dress and with a killer hangover. But it also meant that she usually ran into Mike while he was on his morning run, so she was surprised when neither he nor the dog were anywhere to be found. It wasn't until she got back to Graceland that she found either of them.

"Hey, you stupid mutt… what you barking at this early?" Charlie bent down to rub the dog's head as it barked, looking out at the water. The dog clearly seemed to be distressed about something, but Charlie couldn't quite figure it out. "Seriously, dog, are you fucking crazy or something?" Charlie looked up, scanning the water trying to figure out why the animal was so upset, when she saw the surfboard being tossed up against the pier. It didn't take her long to realize that someone was floating near the board, clearly in trouble.

"Shit…" Charlie had dropped her shoes and bag and was in the water, swimming out to grab him. It took her a moment to realize that it was Mike and that he wasn't fully conscious. The beach was pretty much empty, but by the time she'd gotten him up to the shore there were a couple of other people around – mostly just watching in horror. "Don't just fucking stand there! Someone call 911!"

"Damn it, Mikey, stay with me…" Charlie was worried; on top of potentially having water in his lungs, he had a rather nasty head wound that was bleeding heavily. But she didn't have time to think about that, as he started gagging and she had to roll him onto his side. She rubbed his back as he started coughing up the salt water, holding him up so that he wouldn't choke. "It's okay, baby… it's gotta come out…"

Despite the fact that she knew Mike needed to cough up the water in his lungs, she was thankful when he stopped and slowly started to open his eyes, gasping for air. "Charlie…" He was coughing again before he could even finish saying her name.

"It's okay, Mike… just breathe…" Charlie had to pull away Mike's hand as he tried to reach up towards his bleeding head. "Don't touch it, Mikey."

"'m bleeding…"

"Yeah, you are…" Charlie looked up at the people surrounding her, thankful when one of them pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to her to press against the cut on Mike's head. He winced and pulled away from her, but Charlie held it firmly in place. "You need to stay still, Mikey…" The man was still coughing like crazy, and Charlie was worried by the fact that his lips and skin still had a bluish tinge to them and his body was shaking slightly. "Someone get me a towel or something… he's freezing…"

Charlie was thankful when she looked up and saw Briggs running towards them. "What the fuck happened?"

"I found him in the water, doing a dead man's float… he was surfing, and I think he hit the pier…" Charlie watched as Briggs checked the man's pulse and pulled back his eyelids to look at his pupils.

"Anyone know when the ambulance is going to get here?"

"They have the beach patrol coming, but it's going to take a few minutes…" Charlie watched as Briggs sighed, shaking his head.

"How much water did he swallow?"

"I don't know… a lot…" Charlie replied. "I don't think he got it all out…"

"Probably not…"

"'m…" Mike began, coughing again before he could finish what he was saying.

"Don't talk, Warren… just focus on breathing." Charlie shook her head as Mike's eyes started to slide closed.

"No, no no no no… Mike, do not go to sleep on us." Charlie slapped him lightly, trying to get him to wake up again. "C'mon, baby, don't do this…"

"We've got to get him to the hospital now… we can't keep waiting for them to get here…" Briggs began. Charlie nodded, helping Briggs pick Mike up. The younger man whimpered as they started to move him wincing as if he was in pain.

"Maybe we shouldn't move him…" Charlie began.

"We have to… he's barely breathing, and they aren't moving fast enough. This isn't going to end well for him if we don't get him to the hospital _now_." Charlie looked around for a moment, before nodding and following Briggs towards the house.

"I'm driving…" Charlie began.

"There's more room in the Jeep."

"And you've lost the top… he's already freezing, and we can't keep him warm in the Jeep," Charlie replied. "Put him in the truck. I'll go get a blanket and my keys…"

Charlie hurried up the stairs, grabbing the first blanket she could find and the keys for her old truck before rushing back down and handing her keys to Briggs. "I'm still too drunk to drive. I'll hold onto him, you just get us there as fast as you can."


	7. Breathe

**The Things They Carried**

_Summary:_ The agents of Graceland are masters of keeping secrets. But sometimes, secrets have a way of coming back to haunt you.

_Disclaimer:_ I own nothing; _Graceland_ belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA.

_A/n:_ So I managed to get this chapter out fairly quickly... enjoy!

* * *

Charlie hated the waiting most of all; it had been one thing when she was waiting in the ER, but Silvo had demanded that Briggs and Charlie go back to Graceland when he'd arrived, before they'd heard anything about Mike's condition.

"Anything yet?" Charlie looked up as Johnny held out a cup of tea. She smiled, taking it from him and taking a quick sip before responding.

"No. Gerry'd call Briggs if he was going to tell us anything."

"That doesn't seem to be stopping you from sitting down here waiting for news." Charlie nodded, sighing.

"I know. I'm just… you didn't see him, Johnny. He was literally turning blue. He was awake and breathing, but he couldn't get enough oxygen…" Charlie began.

"Briggs told me."

"I know we joke about Levi being a kid… but he really did look like one this morning. He scared the shit out of me."

"They're keeping him in the hospital for a few days." Charlie looked up as Briggs walked into the room, still holding his cell phone. "Silvo said they've got him on a ventilator for the moment, just until his lungs clear. And I have to figure out a way to keep Bello off our asses until Mike's well enough to at least talk to the man."

"When's Mike supposed to go for his next training session with Bello's guys?" Johnny asked.

"Tomorrow afternoon, according to what Mike's told me. And I don't think he's going to be able to talk by then… which means I have to figure out how to explain why he isn't available by tomorrow."

"He's a Marine, right?" Charlie asked.

"Yeah…"

"Tell him Mike got a severe concussion during a training exercise, and that he's still in the hospital under observation… that he can't call for himself, because he doesn't want anyone in the Marines figuring out that he was involved in stealing the cop killers…" Charlie began.

"They could check that…"

"Will they?" Johnny asked.

"Given how deep Mike's in already? I wouldn't put it past them… he knows too much for them to ignore a missed meeting, even if we give them a good reason."

"Could we get the hospital to cooperate with changing his name in the system?" Charlie nodded at Johnny's idea.

"I don't know if it would work… there are too many people who could potentially find out and let it get back to Bello."

"So then what _are_ you going to tell Bello?"

"I don't know…"

* * *

Mike could barely keep his eyes open, even a few hours after they'd stopped giving him the sedatives he'd been given while he was on the ventilator. But the cough he'd developed made it difficult to actually get any rest. The ache in his head wasn't helping, either.

"How are you feeling, Levi?" Mike groaned at the sound of Briggs' voice, wincing as his cough started up again. "That doesn't sound good…"

"No shit." Mike slowly opened his eyes again, turning to look at the man as he walked closer to the bed.

"I need you to call Bello and explain why you can't train his guys this afternoon…" Mike sighed. "I know it sucks, but I haven't been able to come up with a good excuse that won't require you talking to him. I've been working on this all night, Mike… I didn't think they were going to take you off the ventilator so quickly."

"Give me my phone… and go stand outside the door, make sure no one comes in."

"What are you going to tell him?" Briggs asked, handing over the phone.

"That I'm stuck in bed with pneumonia…" Mike coughed again, shaking his head. "Pretty damn believable, huh?" Mike closed his eyes, shaking his head as he coughed again.

"Make the call, okay? I'll come back in a few minutes." Mike nodded, dialing the number he had for Bello as Briggs shut the door.

"_Michael! I was not expecting to receive a call from you today… how is the training going?_"

"It's been good…" Mike was cut off by another cough.

"_You are sick…_"

"Yes, sir. Pneumonia, according to the doctor this morning," Mike replied.

"_And is it dangerous?_"

"It's contagious…"

"_We will reschedule the lesson, when you are no longer ill._"

"Yes, sir."

"_And Michael…_"

"Yes sir?"

"_Take care of yourself. I need you healthy… I have big plans for you._"

"Yes, sir. Thank you." Michael coughed again as Bello ended the call, shaking his head and checking his messages quickly, before Briggs came back into the room. He'd barely managed to get the phone turned off before Briggs was knocking on the door again. "Come in…"

"How did it go?" Briggs asked.

"I told him it was contagious, and he said we'd reschedule the lesson." Mike watched as Briggs nodded, crossing his arms.

"Good. That has him off your back until you're feeling better." There was a brief moment of silence. "So… what the hell were you thinking, going surfing by yourself?" Mike closed his eyes, shaking his head.

"I just needed to think…"

"Next time, wait until someone else is up, okay? You need to at least have someone else around to help if something goes wrong. If Charlie hadn't been on her way home then…" Briggs began. Mike nodded, closing his eyes.

"I know."

"I'm guessing you were thinking about what we talked about yesterday?" Mike nodded again, coughing. "What are you going to do?"

"I still don't know. It's not a problem… I'm not restricting, or purging, or anything like that…" Mike opened his eyes, watching Briggs' reaction. "I know you think I should tell. But I don't want people to look at me like I'm a freak. It's bad enough that you and Paige know and are watching me like hawks…"

"It's because we don't want to see you hurt yourself or fuck up a case…" Briggs began.

"I get that. But I won't fuck things up. I'm in control here."

"You'll ask for help, right?"

"If I need it, yeah." Mike coughed again, shaking his head. "But right now… I need to sleep…"

"Right. You want me to take the phone, or…?"

"Just leave it. I need to make a couple of phone calls. And I'm sure my stepmother's going to call at some point, if Silvo's been in touch with my family…" Mike watched as Briggs nodded, smiling slightly.

"Alright. Take care of yourself, kid."

Mike dozed on and off for a while, not really getting a lot of rest despite being exhausted. Every time he nearly got to sleep, he would start coughing or a nurse or tech would come into the room to check on something. He was getting extremely frustrated by the time his doctor came to check on him.

"How are you feeling?"

"Exhausted…" Mike began, before being cut off by another cough. "I can't stop coughing…"

"There is still some fluid on your lungs. I know it's annoying, but coughing will help that clear up."

"It's keeping me awake." Mike watched as the doctor nodded, checking his chart for a moment.

"They haven't given you anything for the pain yet?" the man asked.

"I haven't asked for anything…"

"The pain medication will help you sleep, even with the cough. I'll have them bring you a dose of the meds when I leave." Mike nodded, closing his eyes again. "Other than your temperature, your vitals look good. I do want to listen to your lungs before I go, make sure things aren't getting worse… let's go ahead and sit you up a little…"

Mike closed his eyes as the bed started to move, grabbing onto the railing as he started seeing spots and the ache in his head intensified. "S-stop…"

"Is everything okay?"

"My head's really hurting… I just need a minute."

"Just relax. I'm going to go ahead and try to listen. Just try to take some deep breaths, okay?" Mike closed his eyes as the man moved the stethoscope around his chest silently. It wasn't very long before Mike was coughing again. "I just need you to sit up a little further for a minute…" Mike nodded slowly, letting the man help him lean forward slightly so that he could get the stethoscope behind Mike and listened a little longer.

"How bad is it?" Mike asked as the man finally let him lean back in the bed.

"I want to get a new chest x-ray, but it sounds like you're developing pneumonia. It's not really surprising, given how much water you inhaled, but we're going to need to keep an eye on you a little longer than originally planned."


	8. Caring

**The Things They Carried**

_Summary:_ The agents of Graceland are masters of keeping secrets. But sometimes, secrets have a way of coming back to haunt you.

_Disclaimer:_ I own nothing; _Graceland_ belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA.

_A/n:_ I'm honestly not sure why I didn't post this last night when I finished writing it… but anyway, here's a lovely new chapter for you all! Mostly filler – but the idea of having the other residents of Graceland trying to take care of Mike while he's sick was just too cute.

* * *

Charlie smiled as she walked into Mike's hospital room, glad to see that the man was sleeping fairly peacefully. She knew he had to be sick of the hospital – it had been a few days since he'd nearly drowned, and something told Charlie that he wasn't the type to enjoy being a patient. But he didn't look too pale, and he wasn't being given oxygen. But Charlie couldn't help thinking that the man looked a little like a kid tucked into the hospital bed. She put the cooler she'd brought down on the table, opening it up and pulling out a container of her grandmother's homemade chicken soup and a spoon.

"They do feed me here, you know…" Charlie smiled, putting the cooler on the floor before moving the table so that it was sitting over his lap.

"But they don't feed you like this… that's processed crap, this is real food. My grandmother's recipe." Charlie watched as Mike smiled, adjusting the bed so that he was sitting up.

"You really didn't have to do this…" Charlie watched as Mike started coughing again, clearly exhausted from being sick.

"I know. But it's kind of a tradition. Whenever someone gets sick, I make them my grandmother's magic soup. Now you're going to eat up, even if I have to feed you myself." Charlie watched as Mike smiled, shaking his head and picking up the spoon.

"I think I can feed myself… Thanks, Charlie." Charlie sat down on the side of the bed as Mike started eating, watching the way he seemed to pick at the vegetables.

"Something wrong with my grandmother's recipe?"

"No… it's great. I'm just tired. Not that hungry…" Charlie watched as the spoon slipped out of his hand into the bowl, leaning back into the bed.

"You've barely eaten any of it…" Charlie began.

"I know. I just need a minute." Charlie winced as the man began coughing again.

"That really doesn't sound good…"

"It's getting better…" Mike began. Charlie watched as the man picked the spoon back up, taking a few more bites of the soup. "I'm just ready to get out of here. I'd rather be in my own bed back at the house…"

"And I'm sure you will be, as soon as you're well enough… now eat." Charlie watched as Mike ate a few more spoonfuls.

"Why are you so concerned about how much I'm eating?"

"Because you need to get your strength back. I know you aren't feeling well and that you're probably not going to be very hungry, but you need to eat." Mike closed his eyes. "You okay?"

"Yeah…" Charlie reached out, pushing the hair out of Mike's face. The palm of her hand brushed against his skin, prompting her to actually press her palm against his forehead.

"You're still really warm… they took you off the IV already?"

"This morning… they switched me onto oral antibiotics. I think they're trying to get me out of here…"

"C'mon… eat some more of the soup. It's going to get cold, and it won't be as good," Charlie replied, picking up the spoon and handing it back to the man. "It'll make you feel better to have something good in your stomach."

"Distract me. Please. What's going on back at the house?" Charlie smirked, shaking her head.

"Eat." Charlie watched as the man started eating again before she started telling him what was going on. "Briggs has been making Johnny do your chores… be forewarned, he's probably going to use that against you when you're feeling better."

"Yeah, I figured." Charlie couldn't help being concerned as Mike started coughing again. "Anything else going on?"

"They're trying to figure out how to get those cop killers you need to get Bello… it's not easy, but Jakes is trying to get undercover with the people he thinks the Jamaicans got them from."

"There isn't a time limit…"

"Bello may say there's no deadline, Mike… but there's a deadline. Whether you're aware of it or not, you have to get him those bullets as soon as possible or you'll be the next Eddie…" Charlie watched as Mike put down the spoon, clearly not okay with that particular reference. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't bring that up…"

"It's okay… I think I just want to go back to sleep." Charlie watched as Mike closed his eyes again, glancing at the bowl of soup and realizing he'd only eaten about half of it.

"I'll put the rest of the soup in the fridge back at the house for you."

"Thanks, Charlie."

* * *

As much as Mike was glad to be out of the hospital and headed back to Graceland, he was a little worried about having to climb all of the stairs. But he did his best not to show that he was concerned as Gerry pulled up into the driveway.

"Thanks for the ride, Gerry…"

"You going to be okay?" Mike nodded, getting out of the car slowly. He was halfway to the door when he heard Gerry honk at him. "Mike… your medicine…"

"I got it!" Mike smiled as Johnny hurried past the open car window, grabbing the shopping bag from the pharmacy and bringing it up to him.

"Thanks Johnny…"

"No problem. How you feeling, man?" Mike smiled as Johnny clapped a hand on his shoulder, nearly knocking Mike off his feet. "Shit… sorry…"

"It's okay… I'm just tired." Mike stopped just outside the front door, leaning against the wall as he began coughing again.

"Yeah… I'm not buying that one. Let's get you up to bed." Mike shook his head as Johnny put an arm around his waist, putting Mike's arm around his own shoulders.

"Johnny… I can walk."

"You really think you're going to make it up all those stairs on your own right now? Because you look about ready to pass out…" Mike smiled, shaking his head.

"I was thinking the couch, actually… just for a little while." Mike wasn't all that surprised when Johnny laughed, shaking his head.

"You really think you're going to get any rest sitting there?" Johnny asked.

"More like that's about as far as I think I'm going to make it right now. Besides, if I go all the way upstairs to my bed, I probably won't make it back down until some time tomorrow…" Mike let Johnny help him inside, crashing on the couch closest to the front door so that he would be out of the sun coming in from the wall of windows.

"You want me to wake you up for dinner, man?" Johnny asked.

"Pretty sure even if I said no, someone would insist on waking me up to eat." Mike watched as Johnny shook his head and started to head upstairs. "Hey, Johnny…"

"What?"

"Would you mind leaving my prescriptions here? I kind of need those…"

"Right." Mike took the bag from the man, pulling out the pill bottles and doing his best to interpret what he was supposed to do. He vaguely knew when he was supposed to take the pain pills, but the antibiotics were significantly more important and a bit more of a mystery to him.

Mike didn't even realize he'd fallen asleep until he heard people banging around in the kitchen. "Johnny… go get Mike up for dinner."

"'m up…" Mike called, before the coughing started again. He groaned, sitting up slowly and picking up the two pill bottles that had fallen into the floor before making his way to the kitchen.

"Sit your ass down at the table, Levi." Mike shook his head, doing as he was told. He wasn't really surprised to see a bowl of Charlie's soup put down in front of him, along with a glass of water.

"Thanks." Mike took a drink of water, swallowing down his pills before starting in on the bowl of soup. It wasn't quite as good reheated, but it was still definitely better than anything he'd had in the hospital.

"So what did the doctor say about when you can come back to work?" Briggs asked, sitting down across the table from Mike.

"He wants me to take at least a week. I'm supposed to take it easy until my head stops hurting."

"I'm guessing he didn't know what you do for a living…"

"Of course not." Mike ate a bit more of his soup, before he had to turn away from the conversation to deal with another episode of coughing.

"Yeah… you can't go out there like that. Until you're back in fighting form, you're going to stay in the house and stay in bed," Briggs replied. "We put ourselves in enough danger as it is… I'm not letting you anywhere near Bello if you aren't ready for anything he might throw at you."

"You really think Bello is going to go that long without having me at least check in with him?"

"We'll figure out a way to keep you off his radar until you're well enough to deal with him. Don't worry about Bello right now."

"Yes, sir."

"And Mike… I'd better not ever catch you surfing out there on your own again. Not until you've had more experience."

"Yes, sir."


	9. Morning

**The Things They Carried**

_Summary:_ The agents of Graceland are masters of keeping secrets. But sometimes, secrets have a way of coming back to haunt you.

_Disclaimer:_ I own nothing; _Graceland_ belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA.

_A/n:_ Sorry for the delay… I struggled a bit with how to write this chapter (and with my computer deciding to be weird the past few days… and with a new game addiction on my cell phone. Stupid Candy Crush Saga…). Anyways, I hope you enjoy the new chapter. And tonight's new episode – I'm excited!

* * *

Mike groaned as his phone started ringing. It wouldn't have been a big deal on a normal day, when he would have been out of bed at six AM, but given the fact that he was still fighting pneumonia and healing from a concussion he really would have rather slept.

"Hello?" Mike had started coughing before he could even finish getting the word out.

"_You sound like shit_."

"Thanks, Juan."

"_I think you pretty much answered my first question when you answered the phone. When will you be back on the job?_"

"Doctor said at least a week…"

"_And your other case?_" Mike sighed, closing his eyes again.

"You know I'm on it."

"_Just make sure you don't give yourself away while you're on those painkillers… if he suspects anything, he'll try to take advantage of that weakness._"

"I know."

"_Take care of yourself, Mike._" Mike shook his head as the man hung up, putting his phone back on the nightstand and glancing at the clock. He'd barely managed to roll over and curl back up under the covers before there was a knock at his bedroom door.

"Go away."

"Is that any way to talk to the woman bringing you breakfast in bed?" Mike sighed, forcing himself to sit up at the sound of Charlie's voice. "You left your meds on the table last night… I figured you would probably need them this morning."

"Thanks, Charlie." Mike took the pill bottles from the woman first, opening them and pulling out the pills he needed for the morning. "I'm surprised you aren't either out working or asleep…"

"I didn't have to go out with any crazy CIs last night, and it's kind of a slow morning. Besides, I figured you could use a decent breakfast…" Mike smiled, reaching to take the glass of water from his nightstand – only to have Charlie slap his hand away. "I need to take your temperature first."

"You've got to be kidding me…"

"You have pneumonia and you're still on antibiotics… humor me." Mike sighed, taking the thermometer from the woman as she tried to put it in his mouth.

"I'm perfectly capable of holding it myself, thanks." Mike put the device in his mouth, waiting rather impatiently for it to beep. He rolled his eyes as Charlie put her hand to his forehead.

"Don't give me that look." Mike closed his eyes, until the thermometer beeped and Charlie took it from him. "You're still running a fever… how many days have you been on antibiotics now?"

"I don't know… four?"

"Take your medicine."

"I'm a grown man, you know… I can take care of myself."

"Take your medicine." Mike sighed, doing as she said and taking the pills with a sip of water. "Go ahead and eat your breakfast. There's some more chicken soup in the fridge for you to heat up for your lunch…"

"Charlie…"

"I have some stuff to do this morning, but I'll try to come check on you later…"

"Charlie…"

"What?" Mike closed his eyes; she was clearly annoyed at being interrupted.

"I've dealt with being sick before… I had mono freshman year of college and this isn't my first time having pneumonia…"

"I don't care. You need to relax and get some rest… especially if you're still running a fever." Mike sighed as Charlie handed him a plate of food, taking the fork she'd brought and starting to eat the eggs slowly. "Now, like I was saying… I'll try to come check on you later this afternoon. Just try to stay in bed unless you have to get up for something, okay? And make sure you eat and take your medicine."

"Yes, Mom." Mike smiled as Charlie gently smacked the side of his head.

"I'm not your mother…"

"You're trying to act like she would have…" Mike closed his eyes. "When I was a kid, the only time we got breakfast in bed was when we were sick. She barely let Angela get out of bed…" Mike stopped himself before he could finish the sentence, realizing that Charlie didn't know about his mother and sister. And he really didn't want to talk about that.

"You okay?"

"'m fine…" Mike put down his fork, sighing.

"That sigh doesn't sound like someone who's fine. You've been moody and weird for a while now… what's going on?"

"It's nothing, Charlie…"

"It's not nothing, and I know it has something to do with Paige and your sister being under arrest. Spill… are you mad at Paige for having her arrested?"

"I told Paige to do it." Mike opened his eyes, taking in Charlie's surprised look. "Robyn was trying to blackmail me to get her out of a deal with Paige and the DEA. Paige did exactly what I would have done in that situation."

"And it doesn't upset you that she arrested your sister?" Charlie asked.

"It upsets me that she _had_ to arrest my sister because Robyn decided to try something stupid instead of just living up to her end of the bargain." Mike sighed, shaking his head as he started coughing. Before he was even finished, Charlie had put the glass of water in his hand. He took a sip before smiling over at her. "Thanks."

"You know you can talk to me about whatever's wrong, right?"

"I know. But I'm not in the mood to talk, Charlie."

"Are you at least talking about it with the shrink they're making you see?"

"I haven't had an appointment since the shit with Robyn went down…"

"I meant about whatever it is that's keeping you from talking about your mom and Angela." Mike was surprised. "I'm not dumb, Mikey. I can tell there's something bothering you there. And I think you need to talk about it with someone." Mike closed his eyes, shaking his head. "I'm not kidding, Mike. You can't bottle it up…"

"I'm not trying to bottle anything up… I've dealt with all of that, and I've moved on."

"But you don't talk about it."

"I don't feel the need to tell everyone I meet about the bad shit in my past, Charlie. I don't want the sympathy…" Mike tried to explain.

"It isn't always like that, Mike…"

"For me, it is."

"So you're telling me you hate sympathy…"

"I'm just saying that I'm sick of it." Mike closed his eye as he coughed, before sighing. "People get weird when they find out you've lost a parent. They treat you differently. Like it suddenly makes you more fragile or something…"

"Your mom died…"

"She committed suicide when I was ten," Mike clarified. He couldn't bring himself to look at Charlie once he said the words.

"Who is Angela?" Mike shook his head, sighing.

"I've already said more than I wanted to. Can you please just leave it be?"

"I just want to get to know you. To understand you better."

"What ever happened to 'secrets keep you safe'?"

"That shit works outside the house, yeah… but in here, we need to trust each other. You need to trust us, and we need to trust you. It's just easier if we get to know each other, try to be friends." Mike glanced up at the woman, who seemed to be staring him down. "We're stuck together, kid. We have to make the best of a bad situation here."

"There's a difference between trusting you and telling you everything. There are some things I just don't care to talk about. Not because they're painful or dangerous, but because I don't see how it's anyone else's business…"

"Mike…"

"Could you just leave me alone, Charlie? Please?"

"I'm just trying to…" Mike closed his eyes, sighing and pushing away the food.

"Go away."

"Mike…" Charlie began, putting a hand on his arm.

"Charlie, you heard him. Get out." Mike looked up at the sound of Briggs' voice coming from the doorway. Mike watched as the woman started to protest, before thinking better of it and leaving the room. "I'm guessing you want some space?"

"Please." The man nodded, starting to close the door.

"Eat your breakfast, Mikey."


	10. Visitor

**The Things They Carried**

_Summary:_ The agents of Graceland are masters of keeping secrets. But sometimes, secrets have a way of coming back to haunt you.

_Disclaimer:_ I own nothing; _Graceland_ belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA.

_A/n:_ So, new chapter! And after last night's episode, I have some new ideas. Although that preview is really scaring me, because JOHNNY! I swear, I'm entirely too emotionally attached to the characters on this show already. Anyways, I have a wedding to go to tomorrow so this is probably the last chapter for a day or two. Hope you all enjoy!

* * *

Mike was getting really sick of his phone ringing while he was asleep, but it seemed as though that was the only time anyone bothered to call him.

"Hello?"

"_Mike… I haven't heard from you in a while…_" Abbey. Mike sat up a little too quickly, frustrated by the coughing that started up again before he could respond. "_Mike… are you okay?_"

"Yeah… sorry." Mike glanced over at his alarm clock, sighing as he realized it was time for another dose of his meds. "Would you mind holding on for a minute?"

"_Yeah… sure._" Mike closed his eyes for a second, putting the phone down and grabbing the pill bottles and taking his pills as quickly as possible so he could get back to talking to the woman.

"Hey… sorry."

"_No… it's okay. You're sick?_"

"Yeah… I had an accident surfing, got some water in my lungs…"

"_Oh my God… is there anything I can do? I could come take care of you…_" Mike smiled, wishing he could take her up on her offer.

"That's really nice, but I'm okay. Mostly I just sleep…"

"_Are you sure? I really don't mind…_"

"I'm good… my roommates are taking care of me. Besides, I kind of look and feel like shit right now. I wouldn't want to expose you to this mess…" Mike glanced over at his half-finished plate of breakfast as he spoke, realizing he hadn't ever actually gone back to the meal after Charlie left him alone.

"_If you're worried about grossing me out, you shouldn't. Besides, I want to see you… I really don't care if you fall asleep on me._" Mike sighed, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. "_Come on… I'll bring you lunch._"

"You aren't going to take no for an answer, are you?" Mike asked.

"_Probably not._"

"Give me thirty minutes, okay? I need to at least take a shower…"

"_It's a deal_."

Mike had to admit, taking a shower did make him feel better. Or at least a bit more human. But he really wasn't looking forward to figuring out how he was going to keep Abbey downstairs for the afternoon. By the time he got done, he had about five minutes to figure it out and get rid of his breakfast dishes before Abbey was supposed to show up.

"You're up…" Mike was surprised to see Paige walk into the kitchen as he was putting the plate into the sink, thankfully after he'd dumped the evidence of his unfinished breakfast.

"Yeah… Abbey called. She kind of insisted on bringing me lunch when she found out I was sick." Mike closed his eyes as another cough hit him, making him lean against the kitchen island for a moment.

"Go sit your ass down. And make sure you keep her down here… no civilians upstairs." Mike nodded.

"I know."

"Good. Go relax, I'll let her in when she gets here."

"Thanks Paige." Mike walked over to one of the couches by the wall of windows, sitting down and staring out at the waves. He was nearly asleep again before he even realized that Abbey was in the house.

"You poor thing…" Mike looked up, smiling at Abbey as she sat down on the couch next to him. "You should have stayed in bed…"

"I've been in bed for days… it's probably a good idea for me to get up and out of bed for a while." Mike closed his eyes as she reached out, turning his head so that she could see the stitches on the side of his head.

"You didn't tell me you hit your head… what happened?"

"I was surfing… got too close to the pier, got caught in the currents. I don't really remember a whole lot of what happened after that."

"You could have drowned…" Abbey began.

"He nearly did… if Charlie hadn't been on her way home right then…" Paige added. Mike hadn't realized she was still in the room.

"God… that's so scary…" Mike smiled as Abbey took his hands, pressing a soft kiss against his cheek. "I'm really glad you're okay."

"Me too." Mike really wanted to lean in and kiss her, but he started coughing again and had to pull away from her quickly. The girl had a hand on his shoulder, rubbing his back as he coughed.

"Are you okay? Do you need anything?"

"I'm good. It's just a little cough…" Mike closed his eyes as Abbey put an arm around his shoulders, pulling him a little closer and pressing a soft kiss against his forehead.

"You're warm…"

"I know." Mike smiled as Abbey held him, stroking his hair. "I could fall asleep like this…"

"You can't fall asleep yet. I said I was going to feed you, and I'm sure you need to eat something," Abbey commented, pressing a kiss against his temple. "I didn't really know what you like to eat, but I brought some soup from a café near my apartment."

"That sounds good."

"Well sit up for a minute and I'll go reheat it for us." Mike did as he was told, opening his eyes to look out the window for a moment before he realized that he probably needed to keep an eye on Abbey and make sure she didn't go upstairs.

"I can help you with that…" he began, getting up off the couch and starting to follow her into the kitchen.

"I've got it… you just rest."

"You don't know where anything is…" Mike began, pulling out a couple of bowls and putting them next to the plastic container of soup before finding a couple of spoons.

"But you should be resting so that you'll get better," Abbey reasoned, pushing him away from the kitchen. "Go sit back down. I'll bring it to you in a minute when it's warm…" Mike sighed, moving to sit at one of the bar stools as Abbey worked. "What do you want to drink? And where are the cups?"

"Cups are in the top cabinet next to the fridge. And just water, please." Mike watched as Abbey moved around the kitchen, heating up the soup and getting it ready for their lunch. He couldn't help noticing that Paige seemed to keep wandering through, as if she was keeping an eye on them. "Do you want to go eat outside? It looks like such a nice day…"

"If you feel up to it, sure. It is pretty nice out, and the fresh air will probably be good for you. But nowhere near the water…" Mike smirked, shaking his head.

"I don't plan on going anywhere near the water for a while. One near-drowning experience is enough for me…" Mike was glad when the soup was warmed up and they could escape to the balcony, away from Paige's prying eyes.

"I get the feeling your roommate doesn't like me…" Abbey began as they sat down on the deck chairs.

"She's a little over-protective, that's all…"

"And she thinks she needs to protect you from me?" Abbey asked. Mike shrugged, closing his eyes for a moment.

"I don't really know what she's thinking." Mike started eating the soup Abbey had brought, smiling at the taste. "It's really good… where's this from?"

"I honestly don't know the name of the place… it's a little hole in the wall near my apartment, really."

"We should go there sometime, when I'm feeling better. I'd love to see what else they have."

"I could bring you something else tomorrow for lunch…"

"I have a doctor's appointment."

"Then I'll take you to the doctor, and we'll stop by to get something to eat on the way home," Abbey reasoned. Mike smiled.

"You know you don't have to take care of me… I'm an adult, I can take care of myself," Mike replied, going back to his lunch.

"You told me you don't have a car out here yet. And given the fact that you're currently drugged for both the pneumonia and probably for that head injury, I'm pretty sure you aren't supposed to be driving yourself anywhere yet." Mike smiled, shaking his head.

"I thought you said you went to law school…"

"That doesn't mean I'm clueless about medical stuff." Mike glanced over at the woman, who smiled and shook her head. "I also got thrown during a dressage competition when I was seventeen and ended up with a concussion. So I know what I'm talking about." Mike smiled, eating a bit more of his soup. "Now, what time is your appointment tomorrow?"

"It's already taken care of. But thank you," Mike replied. He closed his eyes again, putting the bowl of soup down on the table between their chairs as he started coughing again. The coughing was starting to make his head hurt again despite the painkillers. He buried his face in his hands as he finished coughing, not really surprised when Abbey put a hand on his back.

"Mike? Are you okay?"

"Sorry… my head's just killing me…"

"Did they give you any painkillers or anything at the hospital? I could go get them for you…" Abbey began.

"No. No, it's okay… I just… I think I need to go lay down for a while…" Mike began, starting to get up. He wasn't all that surprised when Abbey immediately stood up to help him, putting an arm around his waist. "I'm okay, really… I just need to get some rest. I'm sorry…"

"No. It's my fault… I shouldn't have insisted on coming to take care of you." Mike was surprised as the woman pressed a soft kiss against his cheek. "Is there anything I can do for you? Can I help you upstairs or something?"

"I'll be fine." Mike turned slowly, pressing a kiss against the young woman's forehead. "I'll call you in a couple of days, okay?"

"Take care of yourself, okay?" Mike watched as Abbey gathered her stuff and left, sighing and walking back in the house as soon as she'd made her way out.

"Your friend left pretty quickly…" Paige began.

"I'm not really feeling up to company right now after all," Mike replied. He sat down on one of the couches, closing his eyes and leaning his head back as Paige sat down next to him.

"You didn't eat much… and I found the remains of your breakfast in the trash can."

"Paige…"

"You need to eat, Mike."

"Could we not have this conversation now, please? I feel like shit and I just want to go back to sleep…" Mike watched as Paige sighed, shaking her head. "I'll eat, Paige. I just can't right now."


	11. Concerns

**The Things They Carried**

_Summary:_ The agents of Graceland are masters of keeping secrets. But sometimes, secrets have a way of coming back to haunt you.

_Disclaimer:_ I own nothing; _Graceland_ belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA.

_A/n:_ And another new chapter! Hope you all enjoy!

* * *

"He's not eating." Briggs looked up at the sound of Paige's voice, more than a little annoyed that she'd come into his room without knocking first.

"What are you talking about?"

"The breakfast Charlie made for him? I found almost all of it in the trash this morning. And he barely ate the soup Abbey brought him for lunch before he sent her home and went back to bed."

"He's sick, Paige… I think we can cut him some slack right now."

"He was eating fine yesterday." Briggs sighed, putting down the case file he'd been looking over.

"He's going to have good and bad days, Paige. We just have to keep an eye on him… but I don't think we have anything to worry about. The kid's been through hell the past week. It's going to take some time for him to be back to normal."

"This isn't some minor illness we're talking about, Briggs. He's got an eating disorder…" Paige began.

"Keep your voice down."

"Why? So he can keep lying to everyone here?"

"Because he's down the hall trying to sleep and the last thing he needs is to hear you yelling about the fact that he isn't eating well," Briggs replied, standing up and closing his bedroom door. "Johnny and Charlie are gonna be home any minute, and they don't need to know until Mike is ready to tell them."

"Why are we helping him lie, Paul? How is this good for him?"

"He needs to be able to trust us, Paige. Mike and I have to work together, and we have to be able to trust each other…"

"You're more worried about your damn case than about Mike's health…"

"Mike is a grown-up, Paige. He can take care of himself… and he's promised to let us know if there's a problem. If I didn't think he could handle it, he wouldn't still be here."

"He _shouldn't_ still be here, Paul, and you know it. Not while he's sick…" Paige replied. "We should have told Gerry what was going on as soon as Mike admitted there was a problem."

"Mike is fine." Briggs crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair. "We have no reason to believe Mike is in trouble right now… one day of not eating much isn't a big deal in the overall scheme of things…"

"This isn't just one day, though… he didn't end up eating anything on sauce night, either…"

"That was weeks ago, Paige…"

"But we can't just ignore it…"

"He'd just watched Eddie blow his brains out… you wouldn't want to eat after seeing that, either."

"Are you seriously sitting here talking about me?" Briggs looked up at the sound of Mike's voice coming from the doorway. Briggs stood up, motioning for Mike to come into the room.

"Paige is concerned about how much you've eaten today." Briggs watched as Mike sat down on the side of the bed, looking up at Paige.

"Why?"

"You haven't finished a single meal today… I found almost all of the breakfast Charlie made you in the trash can earlier, and I know you didn't eat much of the soup Abbey brought over…" Paige began. Briggs watched as Mike nodded slowly.

"I know. I'm just having a really bad day…" Mike replied.

"You have to eat, Mike…"

"I'm pretty sure he knows, Paige. Why don't you just leave him alone?" Briggs watched as Paige threw up her hands in frustration, rolling her eyes and walking out of the room. Briggs sighed, sitting down on the bed a few feet away from the younger man. "You said you're having a bad day… what's going on?"

"I'm just feeling really shitty today… the coughing makes my head hurt, and the pain pills aren't really helping," Mike replied. "I'll be okay. But I really don't feel like eating a whole lot right now… my head is still killing me." Briggs reached out and put a hand on Mike's shoulder, squeezing it gently.

"Go lay back down, okay? I'll bring you something to eat later." Briggs watched as Mike nodded, standing back up and heading out of the room.

"I'm really not relapsing, Briggs… I'm not doing this on purpose."

"I know. I trust you."

* * *

Mike winced as his bedroom door opened, letting in the light from the hallway. It made his headache even worse, and he really just wanted to roll over and go back to sleep. "Levi? You okay?"

"Go away… please…" Mike began.

"It's dinner time… you feeling any better?" Briggs asked.

"Not really. But I need to eat." Mike sat up slowly, wincing as he started coughing again.

"You're taking cough syrup after dinner…"

"Coughing is supposed to help clear my lungs."

"If your lungs aren't clear by now, kid, there's something seriously wrong. You need to sleep so that head injury can heal, and that isn't going to happen until you stop coughing constantly." Mike sighed as Briggs set the plate down on the bed next to him, turning on the lamp beside the bed. "Who's taking you to the doctor tomorrow?"

"Johnny said he would…" Mike began, glancing down at the plate of pasta sitting next to him.

"What about the Bureau shrink?"

"I called yesterday and got out of it for a while… kind of hard to make me come in when I can't drive and everyone else in the house is working cases they can't step away from right now…" Mike replied.

"I'm sure the fact that you're pretty sick doesn't hurt your case, either…" Mike nodded slowly, picking up the plate and starting to eat. "Do you need anything?"

"I know you're just trying to make up an excuse to watch me eat," Mike replied, taking a bite of the pasta. "It's okay… I get it."

"I do trust you… but Paige isn't letting this go, and…"

"I get why she's nervous. It's annoying, but I do understand." Mike looked down at the plate, picking at the pasta for a moment. "Do you think she's right? That you should have called Gerry, gotten me out of here?"

"No. I don't. You're a good agent, and I think you deserve a chance to prove yourself," Briggs replied. "But I'm trusting you to come to me if you need help with this… I can't keep an eye on you constantly." Mike nodded, taking another bite of the pasta.

"I'm not going to fuck this up, Briggs."

"I don't think you will." Mike ate a bit more, watching as the senior agent sat down at the foot of his bed. "I know this is important to you. And I know that you understand what's at stake… not just for you, but for all of us." Mike nodded.

"I get it." Mike ate another bite of his pasta, before putting the fork down on the plate and pushing it away. He'd only eaten half of the over-sized serving, but it was making him feel sick. "I'm sorry… God, it's like having a fucking migraine that doesn't go away…"

"Do you need anything?"

"No… I'm just going to take my meds and go back to sleep…" Mike replied, slowly shaking his head.

"And some cough syrup."

"Briggs…"

"I'm not taking no for an answer on this one, kid. You need to get some real sleep tonight." Mike sighed, closing his eyes. "Seriously… I know it's fucking disgusting, but you haven't stopped coughing and it's time."

"I just want to go to sleep…" Mike watched as Briggs took the plate, sighing.

"I'm going to get the cough syrup. Do you need some more water?" Mike nodded, grabbing the glass on his bedside table and taking the pills while Briggs was out of the room. He closed his eyes as he waited, wincing as the coughing started again, making the pain in his head worse. "Okay… I think it's supposed to be grape flavored which means this is probably going to taste like shit."

"Is there any flavor of cough syrup that doesn't taste like shit?" Mike asked, opening his eyes to watch as Briggs poured out a dose of the thick, purple liquid, handing the little cup over to him. Mike swallowed the disgusting liquid quickly, chasing it with several large gulps of water until he started coughing again. "God, that's bad…"

"But you'll feel better once you've gotten an uninterrupted night's sleep." Mike watched as the man started cleaning up, getting ready to leave the room.

"Briggs…"

"Yeah?"

"I know it doesn't look good… but it isn't what it looks like…"

"I know, kid."


	12. Arguments

**The Things They Carried**

_Summary:_ The agents of Graceland are masters of keeping secrets. But sometimes, secrets have a way of coming back to haunt you.

_Disclaimer:_ I own nothing; _Graceland_ belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA.

_A/n:_ O.O… and the drama's about to start up again… hmm…

* * *

"Your lungs sound a lot better already. How's your head?" the doctor asked, making notes on a clipboard.

"Still hurts… the coughing makes it worse," Mike replied, being more honest with the doctor than he had been with Johnny that morning. The doctor put down the clipboard, pulling out a small flashlight.

"Can you follow the pen with your eyes for me?" Mike did as the man asked, watching as the man moved it around in front of his eyes for a moment, looking concerned. "It may take a while for that concussion to heal… you need to rest and take it easy until your symptoms go away."

"It's been a week… I have work…"

"It'll have to wait, Mike. You need to rest if you want to heal, and that isn't going to happen if you're trying to do too much by going back to work too soon. This is a pretty serious injury, not to mention that you've been really sick. I want you to take it easy for a while longer."

"I can handle it…" Mike began.

"I don't want you to go back to work yet. Even if you think you can handle this, you need more rest to heal properly," the doctor replied. Mike sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. "I'm not kidding… being impatient isn't going to help you. Just go home and rest. If your symptoms haven't improved in a week, come back in and see me again. How are you doing on the pain pills?"

"I still have plenty…"

"Good. I'll have the nurse come take out those stitches, and then I want you to go home and get some rest, Mike." Mike watched as the doctor left the room, before leaning back on the exam table and closing his eyes. It wasn't the news he'd been hoping for.

"Mr. Warren? Are you alright?" Mike opened his eyes, forcing a smile for the nurse standing in the doorway.

"I'm fine… just kind of tired." Mike sat up slowly, watching as the nurse moved about the room.

"I'm just going to clean the wound first, and then we'll take these out," she commented. "You might want to close your eyes… people tend to freak out when they see these tools coming towards their face."

"I think I'll be okay," Mike replied. He winced slightly as the antiseptic swab moved across the wound, stinging. "Is it going to hurt?"

"It usually doesn't. You'll probably feel some pulling as the stitches come out… it might be a little uncomfortable, since you've got a pretty nasty bruise as well." Mike closed his eyes automatically as he saw the scissors coming towards his face. "Just hold still for me… this won't take long."

It only took a couple of minutes for her to get all of the stitches out, cleaning the wound again and putting a couple of bandages over the wound. "You'll need to leave these on for four or five days. If the wound opens up again or starts to show any signs of infection, you need to call us immediately… if it's bleeding excessively, just go straight to the ER."

"Of course." Mike watched for a moment as the woman started to clean up.

"You should be good to go. Try not to get that too wet."

When he got back to the waiting room, Mike wasn't really surprised to find Johnny flirting with the receptionist. "Yeah… it's the key to the jet I fly…"

"It looks like a bike lock key…" the woman commented. Mike couldn't help but smirk at the fact that Johnny was getting called out on his bullshit.

"C'mon, Maverick… I need a ride home…" Mike said, putting a hand on Johnny's shoulder.

"Dude, I nearly had her…" Johnny commented as they walked out to the parking lot.

"She knew it wasn't a Learjet key, Johnny. You didn't have a chance." Mike climbed into the passenger's side of the old orange Jeep, slipping on a pair of sunglasses with a sigh. "Let's just go, alright? I'm tired…"

"What did the doctor say, anyway? When are you gonna be back in action?"

"He said I'm supposed to wait until the concussion symptoms go away," Mike replied, closing his eyes. "I don't know when that's going to be, though."

"And the pneumonia?"

"The antibiotics are working." Mike opened his eyes as he felt Johnny pulling the car over. "What are we doing?"

"Hector's Tacos for lunch. I'm starving." Mike sighed, letting his head fall back against the seat. "C'mon… you need to eat. What do you want?"

"I'm not really that hungry, Johnny… just get me whatever…"

"Dude, you need to eat something."

"I will, Johnny… I just don't really give a shit right now. Just get me a taco or something, okay?" Mike started to get out his wallet, until Johnny put a hand on his shoulder.

"I've got this one, okay?" Mike nodded, closing his eyes. He really didn't feel all that great to begin with, and the heat of the California sun certainly wasn't helping anything. And the longer Johnny was gone, the worse it seemed to get. "Alright… I've got two shrimp tacos, two chicken tacos, and some bottled waters…" Mike did his best to ignore the way Johnny's voice trailed off in concern. "Dude, are you okay?"

"My head is killing me, it's hot as balls, and you made me sit here in the sun for five minutes so you could get a fucking taco…" Mike sighed. "I'm sorry… that was uncalled for."

"Dude… Mikey…"

"Can we just go home now, please?"

* * *

"Okay seriously, what the hell is up with him?" Johnny asked, dropping onto the couch next to Paige as Mike went upstairs with his tacos. "He's been acting weird ever since he got home from the hospital, and he snapped at me when we stopped for Hector's on the way home from his doctor's appointment this morning…"

"Did you at least get him to eat something?" Paige asked.

"I got him some tacos… he said his head was killing him in the car, but he took them upstairs just now so I guess he's going to eat them…" Johnny shook his head. "What's the deal with him and food anyway? Why are you all suddenly so concerned about him eating?"

"He didn't really eat anything yesterday."

"Right…" Johnny watched Paige, sensing that there was something more to what was going on. "Seriously, why are you so worried? It's just one day…"

"It's not just one day, Johnny." Johnny raised an eyebrow as Paige glanced towards the stairwell. "I'm only telling you this because I'm concerned about Mike, okay? He admitted to me that he's had an eating disorder in the past… I'm just concerned that he might be relapsing again…"

"Does Briggs know?"

"Yes. But he doesn't seem all that concerned about it yet…"

"Did you ever think that he might not be concerned because there isn't a reason to be concerned yet? Briggs spends more time with Mike than anyone else… he would know if something was seriously wrong, don't you think?"

"Johnny…" Paige began. Johnny stood up, shaking his head.

"No… this isn't something we should be discussing. If you're that worried, you should talk to Mike about it," Johnny replied.

"He's denying everything…"

"Maybe because there's nothing to admit to, Paige… he knows what's going on better than anyone else, and you need to trust him to ask for help if he needs it," Johnny replied, shaking his head. "Man, I didn't need to know that…"

"Need to know what?" Johnny looked up as he heard Mike's voice. Johnny looked over at Paige, shaking his head.

"You tell him… you're the one he's gonna get pissed off with." Johnny stepped back, giving Mike a direct line to Paige.

"You told him…" Mike began, shaking his head. "Damn it, Paige… I didn't want the whole world to know!" Johnny wasn't all that surprised when Mike turned to him next. "Johnny…"

"Tell me honestly – are you having issues with food right now?"

"I always have issues with food. But I'm not starving myself or making myself sick. I haven't done any of that in years…" Mike began.

"And you would talk to one of us if you needed help, right?"

"Yeah."

"Then your secret's safe with me."

"You believe him that easily?" Paige asked.

"I trust him, Paige. Mike hasn't done anything to make me doubt him…" Johnny replied. He turned towards Mike, shaking his head. "Do you need anything, man?"

"I was just looking for something else to drink… I've got it covered." Johnny watched as Mike got a glass out of the cabinet, filling it with some of the soda Jakes kept in the fridge.

"Thanks for throwing me under the bus, Johnny…" Paige began.

"You're the one who blabbed…"

"Because _you_ asked what was going on!" Johnny shook his head, sighing.

"If I'd known it was something like that, I wouldn't have asked!"


	13. Abbey

**The Things They Carried**

_Summary:_ The agents of Graceland are masters of keeping secrets. But sometimes, secrets have a way of coming back to haunt you.

_Disclaimer:_ I own nothing; _Graceland_ belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA.

_A/n:_ So I don't know how well I like this chapter; it's primarily filler/fluff, but I wanted to get something done quickly before I leave for my conference in the morning (I'll be gone until Monday with limited to no time to write or post) and I JUST figured out what I want to do. It MIGHT raise the rating on this fic, depending on how far I take things. We'll just have to see…

* * *

"You're being quiet… are you feeling alright?" Mike sighed as Abbey brushed some of the hair out of his face. They'd been sitting on the beach for a while, camped out on an old beach blanket under the pier and occasionally throwing a stick for BD to play with.

"I'm lying to half of my roommates and Paige and Johnny are fighting because of me…" Mike began, closing his eyes behind his sunglasses.

"I'm going to assume there's some crucial detail you're leaving out of this story…" He looked up at Abbey, sighing and taking her hand.

"There is. But I've spent so long keeping it a secret… it's just sort of become one of those secrets that I never tell…" Mike watched as Abbey raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. "You have to promise me that you aren't going to freak out when I tell you, okay?"

"Is it really that bad?" Abbey asked.

"It's not good…" Mike sat up slowly, staring out at the ocean for a moment. "My older sister was diagnosed with cancer when I was six. She went into remission, but it came back pretty quickly… she died a week before my tenth birthday."

"God… Mike, I'm so sorry…" Mike shook his head.

"It tore my mom up, losing her like that. I mean, I'm in the middle of nine kids, but she just couldn't recover from that. About nine months after it happened, she dropped my baby brother off at a neighbor's house, and then locked herself in the garage and turned on my dad's old car…"

"Did she…?" Mike nodded, his body sort of curling in on itself as Abbey put a hand on his shoulder.

"I didn't take it well… I was ten, I'd just lost my mother and my sister, and we kept moving around…" Mike closed his eyes, shaking his head. "I just kind of shut down. I know now that I was majorly depressed… I couldn't eat, couldn't sleep… and weirdly enough, when I started losing weight because of it, it made me feel better. So… I just didn't eat. Or I would eat, and then find some way to get rid of everything I'd eaten. I managed to hide it for a long time… but eventually it really caught up with me. I would get sick a lot, and then when I was twelve it got really bad. I was sitting in class one day, and all of a sudden I was in the floor. I can't even remember it…"

Mike closed his eyes as Abbey pressed a kiss against his temple. "But you're okay now, right? I mean, I've seen you eat…"

"I'm fine now. It's been a long time since I've done anything like that."

"So… what exactly is the deal with your roommates, then?"

"Paul and Paige have known for a while, but I didn't really want everyone to know. So I've been keeping it from Charlie, Johnny, and DJ. On the way home yesterday I was kind of an asshole to Johnny and somehow it came out when he was talking to Paige. Johnny took my side when I got pissed off at her, and now they aren't really talking." Mike glanced over at Abbey as she rubbed his back, resting her chin on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry…" Mike let his headrest against hers, sighing. "I think you need to get away from all of that negativity. Come spend the night at my place. It'll be quiet, stress-free." Mike smiled, turning to press a kiss against her forehead.

"I actually really like the sound of that. It'll be nice to get away from the nervous stares every time we sit down for a meal…" Mike smiled, shaking his head as BD came back to them with his stick just in time. "I'm going to go inside, get my meds and a change of clothes. Why don't you throw the stick a few more times for the mutt… maybe he won't miss us so much."

"Sounds like a plan. Do you need the blanket?"

"Nah… we can just leave it in the box over by the surfboards when we leave," Mike replied. He hurried up into the house, going straight to his room without acknowledging the fact that Paige was in the kitchen. He threw a change of clothes into his knapsack, tossing a few other necessities on top and shoving the pill bottles on top.

"Mike, I know you're mad at me. But I made lunch…"

"I'm actually going to Abbey's." Mike started to leave the room, stopping as Paige put a hand on his arm.

"Mike…"

"I'm not talking about this with you right now, Paige."

"You're getting in too deep with this girl. You're undercover… you can't be honest with her, and you're both going to get hurt when it's over…" Mike turned to Paige, crossing his arms.

"My relationship with Abbey is none of your business. And honestly, right now I need to get out of this house and away from you for a day or two." Mike pulled his arm out of Paige's grip quickly, heading straight for the stairs and outside to meet up with the woman waiting on the beach for him.

"Took you long enough…" Abbey joked, taking his hand before giving the stick back to BD as they started towards her car. "I need to run by the grocery store to get something for our dinner. Do you want me to drop you off first or do you want to come with me?"

"I can just come with you…" Mike began. He sighed as his phone began ringing, glancing down at the screen. "I'm sorry, I have to take this… I'll meet you at the car in a minute, okay?"

"Sure."

Mike waited until Abbey was a safe distance away before he answered the phone. "Hello?"

"_Michael… you are better, yes?_"

"Getting there, sir." Mike closed his eyes, sitting down on the steps leading up to the house. The last thing he wanted to do was go deal with Bello.

"_Well enough for a training session with my men? They are desperately in need of more practice…_"

"Tomorrow afternoon?"

"_Same time as usual. I will have the men there._"

"I'll be there." Mike sighed as Bello hung up the phone, shooting a quick text message about the situation to Briggs before heading out to Abbey's car and climbing into the passenger's seat. "Sorry about that."

"Everything okay?" Abbey asked.

"Yeah, just my boss checking in. He isn't exactly patient about being down a pilot right now…" Mike replied.

"You can't exactly fly why recovering from a concussion, though. If something happened in the air, it could end really badly…"

"I know. And so does he. But there's a lot of stuff going on right now, and me being out sick is pretty inconvenient." Mike leaned over, pressing a kiss against the woman's lips with a smile. "Let's not talk about my job, okay?"

"Okay. No more talk about jobs or roommate drama or anything like that. Just you, me, dinner, and a movie."

"It's not going to be a chick flick, is it?" Mike asked, smiling.

"Hmm… if you're nice, I'll let you pick the movie," Abbey replied, playing along with his joke.

"_If_ I'm nice? I'm always nice…"

"Uh-huh… sure…" Mike smiled, watching Abbey for a moment as she started the car and they headed out to her apartment.

* * *

Abbey's apartment was a welcome distraction from Mike's life in Graceland. It was small and inviting despite the fact that she probably wouldn't be there for long. Mike loved being able to just relax on her couch with an arm around her, not worrying about whether or not anyone else would come in or what might happen to ruin his carefully constructed lies.

"We should make dinner…" Abbey commented, slowly extricating herself from Mike's arms. "I think I still have some of that beer you like…"

"I'm still taking the antibiotics…" Mike replied, wishing he could take her up on that offer.

"Right. I forgot." Mike closed his eyes as Abbey pressed a soft kiss against his lips. "I probably shouldn't drink, either, so that I'm not teasing you all night…"

"I don't mind if you drink. Honestly, all I really care about is being here with you," Mike replied, pulling the woman a little closer and kissing her again. "You're so beautiful, Abbey…"

"I'm not having sex with you tonight, Mike." Mike couldn't help laughing, letting his head rest back against the couch for a moment.

"I wasn't necessarily looking for sex… but I like cuddling with you like this." Mike pressed another quick kiss against the woman's lips. "I may be a guy, but I'm not a total horn-dog…"

"It's been a while since we did anything…"

"But if you remember, I was sick most of that time," Mike replied. "I'm okay with not doing anything more than kissing tonight, honestly. I'm already kind of tired, and I have to run some errands tomorrow after you drop me off at home…"

"I could take you wherever it is you need to go…"

"No… it's fine. I've already gotten it all sorted out. I just need to be back at the house right after lunch," Mike replied. He watches as Abbey sighed, shaking her head.

"You shouldn't be doing too much, Mike… you'll wear yourself out, make it harder to heal…"

"I'm not going to overdo it, I promise. I just have a few things I have to take care of tomorrow afternoon. And I can't stay here forever… eventually I do have to go back to the house and deal with my roommate situation…"

"But don't you think you need to separate yourself from all of that? I mean, I know you have a lease and can't really move out on short notice, but I think it would be better for everyone if you could at least get some emotional distance from what Paige did…" Abbey replied. Mike nodded, closing his eyes for a moment.

"I'm starting to get over it… I'm still upset that she went behind my back like that and I'm not sure I'm going to be able to trust her for a while. But I'm not as mad at her as I was earlier…"

"Do you think you'll be able to forgive her?"

"Yeah… maybe…" Mike began. "I don't think I'll be able to trust her for a while, but I think I'll be able to forgive her at least enough to be friends with her again. With some time, anyway."

"You're handling this a lot better than I would have." Mike shrugged.

"She means well… she just doesn't really get it. I'm doing really well right now… probably the best I've been since I was diagnosed. I get that she's worried about me, but she's going about things in the wrong way."

"I'm sure it'll get better. Maybe you just need to talk to her about the whole situation… explain what's going on and how you feel about what she's done."

"You're so smart…" Mike pulled Abbey into a quick kiss. "Thank you."


	14. WQBs

**The Things They Carried**

_Summary:_ The agents of Graceland are masters of keeping secrets. But sometimes, secrets have a way of coming back to haunt you.

_Disclaimer:_ I own nothing; _Graceland_ belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA.

_A/n:_ So sorry it's taken so long to write this! I went straight from a professional conference in Maryland (a 10 hr. drive each way) to babysitting and then having a two-day migraine so I'm just now finishing this. I'm still not 100%, but I do have a chapter written – and an idea for another Graceland one-shot that I might be writing very, very soon.

* * *

"You're really going in there like this?" Mike nodded slowly in response to Briggs' question.

"What choice do I have?" Mike asked, holstering his gun underneath his jacket. "I lied to Bello about what happened to me in case he tried to look into my alibi. If I don't make this meeting, he'll be suspicious."

"What's the cover for your head injury?"

"I passed out getting up to go to the bathroom shortly after I spoke to him and busted my head open on the corner of my nightstand."

"If anything goes bad in there…" Briggs began.

"The TAC team is thirty seconds out, but if I can get my ass out without it I should figure out a way to do it." Mike watched as Briggs sighed, handing him the keys to the old beaten-up truck Mike had been driving to his training sessions with Bello's men.

"I'm going on record right now saying that I'm not okay with this. You shouldn't be driving right now, let alone dealing with the biggest heroin dealer on the West Coast. I'm not comfortable with sending you into a situation with this many guns when you aren't on top of your game."

"If there was another way, I'd gladly do it. But I don't know how to get out of this," Mike replied. He looked up as Briggs put a hand on his shoulder and looked him in the eye.

"Get in, do your job, and get the fuck out. Don't play around, don't talk to anyone unless you have to. And if you start to feel sick or anything, get the hell out of there. We'll come and get you as soon as you're out of view of Bello's guys."

"I've got it."

"Make the heat run if you can, but don't push it."

"Briggs. I've got it."

Actually driving from the team's surveillance location to Bello's garage wasn't as simple as Mike would have hoped – his head was still aching most of the time, and he was dreading having to actually listen to the sound of guns firing. But he made it, just a few minutes before the time scheduled for his training session with Bello's men.

"I was starting to worry you weren't coming." Mike pushed his sunglasses up onto his head as Bello greeted him, seemingly upset. "What happened to your head?"

"Just an accident… I'm fine," Mike replied.

"What kind of accident?"

"I was more dehydrated than I thought after I got off the phone with you last week. I ended up blacking out when I tried to get up and hit my head on a sharp corner of my nightstand."

"And you decided to keep it from me?" the man asked. There was something about his tone of voice that scared Mike, but he just wasn't sure _what_ it was.

"I didn't think it was all that important… I'm fine now…" Mike began. He could hear someone walking up behind him, closing his eyes and putting up his hands as someone cocked a gun just behind his head. "Sir… what's going on?"

"Where were you yesterday, Michael?"

"Sir?"

"Where were you?"

"With my girlfriend."

"You were well enough to go out with her, but not to let me know you were well enough to come back and do your job?" Bello crossed his arms.

"I hadn't seen her in a while… I'd been keeping her away because I was afraid of her catching pneumonia from me. She picked me up and we went back to her place for dinner. That's all that happened…"

"And how much does your girlfriend know about what you do, Michael? What have you told her?"

"She knows I'm in the Marines… that's all I've told her."

"That's all?" Bello asked. Mike nodded slowly.

"I can't exactly tell her that I'm training a drug lord's gang to shoot like Marines… she wouldn't exactly approve."

"And what kind of relationship is this, that you can not even tell the woman you love the truth?"

"I never said I loved her." It hurt Mike to say that, but he knew it was the only way to potentially get out of this alive and without risking Abbey's life.

"You are using her…" Mike watched, somewhat relieved as Bello motioned for the person holding the gun to his head to put the weapon down.

"You could say that. But I prefer to think of it as giving her what she wants so that I get what I want," Mike replied, crossing his arms. "I wouldn't tell her anything about your business… she doesn't need to know." Mike watched as Bello nodded.

"Get to work… they have been practicing in your absence, but they are starting to slip into bad habits you had gotten them out of."

"Yes, sir."

Mike did his best to make it through the afternoon's training session, trying to ignore the pounding in his head that continued to get worse as the men practiced shooting tin cans off the scaffolding set up for precisely that purpose. Their hour of practice and instruction seemed to drag on forever, especially once Bello showed up to watch the last couple of minutes.

"They have already improved dramatically. You will finish their training soon, yes?"

"They still have a ways to go… they're doing better than they were, but I still don't think they're ready to finish their training."

"These men… they shoot better than any of the street gangs in this city, they are respectful. They are already far beyond what I expected when I asked you to train them."

"Yes, sir. But you said yourself earlier that they started slipping into old bad habits while I was sick. Clearly they aren't ready to complete their training just yet…" Mike replied, thankful that Bello had already given him a good reason to delay ending his regular training sessions with the men. Mike still hadn't figured out how to keep himself in with Bello once this assignment was over.

"They will need reminders, of course. But their formal training needs to end… I need them in the streets, pushing my product and dealing with issues that arise…" Bello began. Mike nodded slowly, doing his best to avoid showing that he wasn't really up to dealing with all of this. "You will be here on Friday, at the usual time. I have a job specifically for you."

"Yes, sir." Mike started to get things cleaned up so that he could leave.

"And Michael…" Bello began.

"Yes, sir?"

"Break up with the girl. You do not need the temptation to tell her what is going on here. And I do not want to be forced to kill an innocent woman." Mike nodded at Bello's instructions, suddenly very aware of the danger he was putting Abbey in simply by being with her.

"Yes, sir."

Mike got out of there quickly, doing his best to make sure he wasn't being followed until he could get back to the TAC team's location. As soon as he was out of the truck inside the warehouse, he made a beeline for the nearest garbage can and proceeded to lose his lunch.

"Shit… somebody get the kid a glass of water!" Mike closed his eyes, thoroughly embarrassed, as he stood back up slowly. "You okay, Mike?" Briggs asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah… yeah, I'm good…" Mike replied, nodding slowly. "Sorry… my head is killing me…" Mike didn't even really notice that he was swaying on his feet until Briggs put an arm around his waist to steady him.

"Come on… you need to sit down before you pass out on me…"

"I'm not going to pass out."

"Tell me that again when I'm not the one carrying most of your weight." Mike finally opened his eyes, surprised when he realized that they were already halfway across the garage to the chair. He stood up a little more, pulling away from Briggs and starting to walk on his own. "I knew I shouldn't have sent you out there…"

"I'm okay. It's just my head… really." Mike sat down on the chair Briggs had been helping him towards, sighing and burying his face in his hands. "I just need to go lay down for a while."

"Look at me." Mike looked up, sighing when he realized Briggs was holding up his index finger.

"Paul…"

"Humor me, kid." Mike sighed, nodding before starting to follow the man's finger with his eyes.

"You didn't come in when you heard the gun…"

"You were handling it. I figured they would be more likely to shoot you if we burst in there than if we let you try to talk your way out of it."

"The gun was to my head…"

"The TAC team was just out of sight of Bello's snipers the whole time. You were holding your own out there." Mike nodded slowly, closing his eyes. "I think you're okay… just hang out for a minute while we pack up. And if you're going to puke again, try to do it _before_ you get in my car."

"Yes, sir." Mike leaned back in the chair as Johnny handed him a bottle of water. "Thanks, man."

"That was a pretty epic puke, dude… you sure you're alright?"

"My head is killing me. But I'll be fine…" Mike took a sip of the water, closing his eyes. "No Hector's on the way home this time, okay?"

"Don't worry, dude. You're paler than the damn tortilla shells right now… we're getting your ass back in bed before you puke your guts up…" Mike winced at the idea. "Sorry. Bad choice of words."

"Yeah…"

"Just chill out for a few, then we'll take you home."


	15. Broken

**The Things They Carried**

_Summary:_ The agents of Graceland are masters of keeping secrets. But sometimes, secrets have a way of coming back to haunt you.

_Disclaimer:_ I own nothing; _Graceland_ belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA.

_A/n:_ So this chapter pretty much wrote itself last night and today… which is kind of weird to me, because I wasn't expecting this particular chapter to come this easily. Seriously, I'm finding writing this author's note more difficult than the chapter itself! Potentially triggering, just so you all know. And this chapter kind of makes me sad.

* * *

Mike groaned, sitting up a little straighter as he finally stopped retching. It had been a few days since his training session with Bello's men, and despite knowing the consequences he couldn't really stop himself from purging again. He'd been doing so well, but as soon as he'd realized how much better it made him feel to just be… empty. But the actual process of throwing up was really unpleasant.

It took a minute for Mike to pick himself up off the floor and get himself cleaned up. He glanced at his phone for a moment as he finished washing his hands, debating whether or not he was going to call someone. But he sighed and shoved the phone in his pocket before heading downstairs.

"You haven't broken up with Abbey yet, have you?" Briggs asked as soon as Mike was down the stairs.

"I'm taking care of it."

"When?" Mike sighed, getting a bottle of water out of the fridge.

"In about five minutes. She thinks I'm spending the night at her place tonight, and I'm going to take her on a walk when she gets here."

"It's better this way, Mike. Even if you love her… especially if you love her. You're putting yourself and her and everyone in this house in danger by trying to keep that relationship going." Mike nodded, taking a drink from the bottle.

"I know. It's just hard to break things off…"

"We should have made you do it sooner. Before you were so attached."

"Yeah."

"Are you okay, kid? You look a little pale…" Briggs began.

"Didn't really sleep last night, worrying about all of this…"

"Never broken up with anyone before?"

"Not someone I was in love with," Mike replied, closing his eyes. He sighed as the doorbell rang, "Looks like that's my cue."

"Good luck, man."

Mike didn't even bother plastering on a smile as he opened the front door, trying not to let himself get too close to Abbey as she gave him a hug. "Are you ready to go?"

"Actually… can we take a walk?" Mike closed the front door, trying to lead Abbey down towards the beach.

"Is everything okay?" Abbey asked, putting her arm through Mike's before he even had a chance to stop her.

"No… I'm sorry…"

"You're not breaking up with me, are you?" Abbey joked. Mike looked down at his feet. "Oh God… you are…" Mike sighed as Abbey pulled away from him. "Mike…" It broke his heart to see the tears in Abbey's eyes as she stared him down, shaking her head. "This can't be happening…"

"Abbey, please just let me explain…"

"What the hell, Mike? I thought things were going well…" Abbey began. Mike leaned against the wall, sighing and burying his face in his hands.

"I know… and I really do like you, Abbey…"

"But not enough to date me."

"I wish things could be different. But I'm not in a good place for being in a relationship right now… and I can't drag you down with me. You're leaving in a couple of weeks anyway. And it's better to just not pretend that we can do the long-distance thing from opposite ends of the country…" Mike began.

"You're from the East Coast, too…"

"But I'm here now. And I'm going to be here for a while… I don't know when or where I'll be transferred next, and I don't want you to feel like you have to change everything for me."

"I would gladly change the plan for you, Mike… I love you." Mike closed his eyes, sighing.

"And I love you, too, Abbey… but I can't do this right now. I can't pretend that this is all okay and that everything is going to be fine."

"Why are you so afraid this isn't going to work out?"

"Because long distance never works for me," Mike lied. "I just can't justify keeping this up, when I know it's going to have to end soon…"

"I'm going to ask you a question, and I need you to tell me the truth." Mike nodded, even though he didn't know if he would be able to actually tell Abbey what she wanted to hear. "Are you relapsing?"

Mike shook his head. "No… why would you think that?"

"It just worries me that you're pushing me away. Especially when you've lost some weight from being sick for so long…" Abbey began.

"I'm not relapsing. I promise. I just can't keep pretending…" Mike watched as Abbey nodded, before leaning in and pressing another kiss against his lips.

"Okay." Mike watched as Abbey started to walk away, before turning around to look at him with tears in her eyes. "Don't be a stranger… okay? If you need to talk, you still have my number, okay?" Mike pressed his lips together, nodding and trying not to let her see the tears in his eyes. "If you ever make it back to the East Coast, give me a call. Maybe we can try this again." Mike nodded, watching her go.

Mike walked back into the house as soon as Abbey's car was out of sight, sitting down at the bar in the kitchen and staring at his water bottle. "It's not going to start walking away if you take your eyes off of it." Mike looked up at Briggs as the man walked back into the kitchen. "You off the antibiotics and painkillers yet?"

"Antibiotics are over. I still have the painkillers, but I haven't taken them since last night." Mike forced a smile as Briggs set a glass down in front of him and poured some rum into it. "I shouldn't…"

"After the day you've had, you need it." Mike started to pick up the glass and drink from it, but thought better of it. "C'mon, Mikey… it's not going to hurt you."

"I haven't kept anything down for the past three days." Mike looked at the glass of rum instead of at Briggs.

"Don't shit with me, Warren…"

"I'm not. Since I got sick after the training session with Bello's guys, the only thing I've kept down is water."

"Look at me, Mike." It took him a minute to respond to Briggs. "Look at me." Mike turned to look at the man, who was leaning against the counter next to him. "You're being serious…" Mike nodded.

"It felt good… getting sick and just having my stomach be empty for the first time in a while. I know it sounds insane, but this is what I've been fighting almost as long as I can remember…" Mike watched the man for a moment, before turning away and sighing. "Just… forget I said anything, okay? I'll deal with it."

Mike started to get up, stopping as soon as Briggs put a hand on his shoulder. "You aren't about to just drop something like this on me and then walk away, Mike. Sit your ass back down." Mike did as he was told, not totally sure about what was going on. Briggs didn't sound mad, but he definitely wasn't happy. He watched as Briggs went to the fridge and pulled out a bag of salad and the ranch dressing.

"Paul…"

"The first thing you're going to do is eat. And keep it down."

"Does it have to be ranch dressing?"

"All we have right now. And you aren't eating it dry." Mike nodded, sighing as Briggs made the salad and put it in front of him with the dressing already on top. "Eat." Mike picked at the salad with his fork, spreading the dressing around a little more so that it wouldn't be quite so much in each bite. "Eat."

Mike ate a few bites as Briggs watched him closely. "What are you going to do now?"

"For right now, I'm making sure you eat and don't throw this up. Beyond that, I'm still trying to figure out what I need to do next." Mike nodded, sighing and forcing himself to take another bite of the salad. He could feel his stomach turning after only a few bites, but he knew he had to keep eating.

"What are we trying to figure out?" Mike closed his eyes as Paige entered the kitchen. He'd been avoiding her ever since the argument over her telling Johnny about his eating issues.

"If you don't tell her, I will," Briggs commented, watching Mike. Mike sighed, closing his eyes.

"I've been purging again. It was an accident, but… I haven't been able to stop."

"How long?" Paige asked, crossing her arms.

"Three days." Mike watched as Paige sighed, before walking over and pulling him into a hug. It took him a moment to realize what was going on, before he returned the hug and let his head rest on her shoulder.

"God, Mikey…"

"I don't know if it was just the stress of having to break up with Abbey, or…"

"Shut up, okay?" Paige commented, pulling away from the hug and putting a hand over Mike's mouth. "It doesn't matter right now. Just… eat your salad, and we'll figure out what comes next."

"I think we need to tell Charlie and Jakes what's going on." Mike closed his eyes at Briggs's suggestion, thinking for a moment.

"I agree. But that needs to be Mike's call…"

"If I agree to this, can we at least delay telling the Bureau until I've had a chance to try and fix this?" Mike asked. He watched as Briggs and Paige looked at each other for a moment.

"I can't guarantee that I won't tell Gerry…" Briggs began.

"At least give me a chance…" Mike watched as Briggs glanced at Paige again, biting down on his bottom lip. "Please."

"I can't send you out in the field if you haven't eaten."

"He's right, Mike… you can't be out there if you aren't 100%..." Paige added.

"How can I prove to you that I can do this?"

"You can start by eating that salad." Mike nodded, turning back to the bowl and starting to eat again. The food didn't sit well on his stomach, although Mike was fairly sure it was psychological rather than physical. There were only a couple of small pieces of lettuce left when he put his fork down, but he didn't think he could force himself to eat more without getting sick. But it seemed to be enough to appease Briggs, who handed the nearly empty bowl to Paige before crossing his arms and standing in front of Mike.

"Where's your phone?" Mike pulled the device out of his pocket, holding it up with his eyes closed. "Call your therapist. If you want privacy you can go out on the balcony, but I want you to stay where we can see you so that I don't have to worry about whether or not you're making yourself sick again." Mike nodded, finding the number in his contacts list and making the call.


	16. Telling

**The Things They Carried**

_Summary:_ The agents of Graceland are masters of keeping secrets. But sometimes, secrets have a way of coming back to haunt you.

_Disclaimer:_ I own nothing; _Graceland_ belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA.

_A/n:_ So this chapter was infinitely more difficult to write for some reason; I think because I had such an easy time. Or maybe the fact that I'm still exhausted from the tax holiday that made work a complete MADHOUSE over the weekend. We're talking customers everywhere, either insanely happy about the fact that there was no tax and a good sale at the same time or bitching because the store was a mess and we were out of everything. This is my fourth year of this, too, and it only seems to get worse…

* * *

Mike smiled from the corner of the couch, watching as his roommates drank a round of zombie juice Paige had mixed up after Charlie had a bad run-in with a dealer earlier in the day that had ended with a dead CI and the dealer in custody.

"Come on, Mikey… you need to drink with me, too."

"I'd love to, but I can't…"

"Still with the headaches? When do you go back to the doctor again?" Charlie asked.

"Monday morning. They aren't as bad, but I don't want to deal with a hangover on top of that," Mike replied.

"You sure you want to stay up with all of us drunk idiots, then?" Jakes asked. "I mean, I know it's not much fun being stuck dealing with people who are drinking when you have to stay sober…"

"I… kind of need to talk to you guys about something." Mike smiled as Paige put a hand on his knee, taking her hand and squeezing it as DJ and Charlie watched him with eyebrows raised.

"Dude… you know the rule. No love in Graceland…" DJ began.

"That's not what this is about," Mike replied, shaking his head. "I don't know how to say it…"

"Just tell us, Levi," Charlie replied.

"I'm a recovering anorexic. And I'm relapsing." Mike looked down at the hand Paige was still holding, focusing on that rather than the looks he was getting from DJ and Charlie. "I'd been okay for a while, but I've been purging again for the past few days. Lunch today was the first time I kept anything down since the meeting with Bello the other day."

"That was three days ago." Mike nodded in response to Charlie's comment. "You threw up my homemade pizza."

"I didn't actually eat much of it – that was right after the training session, when my head was hurting so badly…"

"Shit… I finished his because I thought it was just a bad headache…" DJ began.

"It's not a big deal… I would have found some other way to hide it or I would have puked it all up if you hadn't."

"So… what's going to happen now? Are you going home, or…?" Charlie asked. Mike shrugged. "I mean, you've told Gerry about this, haven't you?"

"We can't afford to have Mike pulled out of the Bello case right now. Not when we've got the bullets on the way already… he's the only one that can deliver them."

"So we're going to put Mike's health at risk to bring down a heroin distributor?"

"We're playing things by ear," Briggs replied.

"Look… I want to bring Bello down. I'm telling you all what's going on because I need your help. At least long enough to get me through the next few weeks, until we can get me out."

"What do you need?" DJ asked.

"Someone needs to watch him eat, stay with him for a while after he finishes a meal to make sure he doesn't make himself sick," Briggs replied.

"And he isn't allowed to go running," Paige added. Mike looked up at that part, because it hadn't been part of what he'd originally agreed to. "You forget I know all the tricks, Mike… and over-exercising is just as bad as throwing up."

"Right. Okay."

"I don't think there's anyone in this house that wakes up early enough to stop Mike from going for a run… he gets up at the ass-crack of dawn every fucking morning…" DJ began, teasing. Mike smiled.

"This is just a temporary thing… we're going to figure this out, see if we can figure out a way to get Mike the help he needs without him having to leave Graceland."

"And if the best thing is for him to leave?" Charlie asked.

"Then I'll leave. But not until we've gotten Bello." Mike finally looked up as he said the words.

"Right. I need a zombie right about now," Charlie commented, pouring herself another shot and downing it quickly before looking Mike straight in the eye. "I'd better not catch your ass purging or not eating, understand?" Mike nodded. "Good. Because I'd hate to have to kick your ass."

"Don't think Charlie will be the only one beating your ass, either, boy. Especially if you fuck up with those damn bullets we're getting you…"

"I'm not going to fuck up," Mike replied.

"Dude, you fuck up constantly… if you weren't so damn likeable, your ass would have already been shot by somebody…" Johnny teased. Mike couldn't help smiling slightly; Johnny could be an asshole at times, but he meant well. "We're just worried about you, man. You're one of us now."

"I think I'm going to go ahead up to bed," Mike commented, starting to stand up.

"Hey…" Charlie stood up, wrapping him in a tight hug for a moment. "We're here for you, okay? You just have to tell us if you need help…" Mike nodded, smiling as she squeezed his hand before letting go of him. "Get your ass to bed."

"Yes, ma'am."

* * *

Mike stared down at the phone in his hand, trying to decide what he should do. He had already fucked up so much thus far, and he wasn't sure if it would be better or worse for him to pull himself off the Briggs case before it got out of hand.

"_Juan. What do you need, Mike?_"

"I… I think I need to be pulled off the Briggs case." Mike closed his eyes, waiting for the shitstorm that he knew would be coming.

"_What's going on, Mike? You told me you could handle bringing him down._"

"And at the time, I could. But…"

"_What's he done?_"

"I'm anorexic, Juan. And I need help."

"_That isn't funny, Mike_."

"Everyone else is helping me cover it up, just long enough to take down Bello. But you've got to find someone else to take down Briggs, because I have to get out of here as soon as I can get out of this situation with Bello."

"_Shit… Mike…_"

"I know."

"_Why wasn't it in your file?_"

"Because I never mentioned it before. I don't talk about it…"

"_How bad is this, Mike? What are we talking about here?_"

"I've been purging again. It only went on a couple of days before I said something, but it's bad…" Mike glanced down at his feet, kicking at the sand. "I'm… I'm going to have to take some time off, once we get the Bello case squared away. If I'm not getting fired for this, anyway…"

"_You can't be fired over a mental health issue, Mike._"

"Pretty sure I can be fired for lying about my mental health history." Mike took the man's moment of silence as confirmation of his fear.

"_You don't have to lose your job over this, Mike. If you can bring Briggs in before you leave…_"

"I don't think that's going to be possible. I have everyone here watching me like hawks. The only reason I'm alone right now is I convinced them I needed to call my therapist back in Virginia."

"_You're going to compromise an investigation…_"

"You'd rather I killed myself? Because that's pretty much what would have happened if I hadn't asked for help, Juan."

"_Mike…_"

"Just forget it. Do what you have to do. But my health is more important than my job, and I need help."

"_We can keep this between the two of us for now. I'll figure out a way to spin things, keep you from getting in trouble for hiding this. But you can't fuck up, Mike. You need to take down Bello, and get Briggs if you can…_" Mike sighed, staring out at the ocean and shaking his head.

"I don't know if I can… Bello, sure, but Briggs…"

"_Find a way to take him down, Mike. Do what you have to do._"

"And if I can't take him down?"

"_We'll get someone else. There's still another empty room at Graceland, and we can always say anyone else we send in is your replacement. But I don't want to do that._"

"I don't have anything on him yet… and I don't foresee finding anything in the next week, before we take Bello down…" Mike began.

"_You have to try, Mike. We have to keep this case going at the very least…_"

"What happens if I leave Graceland after Bello? Would I have the option to come back and pick up the case again?"

"_I don't know, Mike._"


	17. Bust

**The Things They Carried**

_Summary:_ The agents of Graceland are masters of keeping secrets. But sometimes, secrets have a way of coming back to haunt you.

_Disclaimer:_ I own nothing; _Graceland_ belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA.

_A/n:_ So… my life sucks right now. Time Warner Cable is having issues with USA, so despite having stayed up to watch _Graceland_ on the 1 AM repeat because I missed the first showing because of work, I still haven't seen tonight's episode. And sadly I won't be able to see it until it goes up on Hulu now. And that just REALLY sucks, because now I'm going into work tomorrow sleep-deprived for no good reason.

* * *

"You need to eat something, Mike… it's going to be a long day." Mike picked at his breakfast for a moment, not sure how he should react to Briggs's words.

"I'm about to go into the most dangerous situation I've ever faced and you're telling me to eat…"

"I'm telling you as your training officer that if you don't eat, you aren't going on this mission," Briggs replied. "I need you in top form today, and that means I really need you to eat your breakfast." Mike choked down a couple of bites of his eggs, fighting the urge to be sick.

"Transmitter's here. What's for breakfast?" Johnny asked, dropping a package on the counter next to Mike's plate.

"There are still some eggs in the pan, and bacon on the plate over there. Hurry up, though, we gotta head out soon and you still need to suit up." Mike could feel Briggs watching him, so he forced another bite of egg into his mouth and chewed it up, swallowing slowly. "Watch him for a minute, okay Johnny? I gotta go finish getting ready."

Mike closed his eyes, pushing the plate away as soon as Briggs was out of the room. "Oh, no… you aren't getting away with that, man. I heard Briggs – you don't eat, you don't go today."

"I think I'm going to be sick…"

"You gotta keep that down…" Johnny began. Mike closed his eyes, burying his face in his hands. "C'mon, dude, we've got to make this shit happen today. And you need something in your stomach if you're going in there."

"I'm trying here, Johnny." Mike sat back up as Johnny pushed the plate back towards him.

"I know. We all know you're trying. But just trying ain't enough here…" Mike stared down at the plate as Johnny put the fork back in his hand. "Just eat, okay? I don't care what the fuck you do after this bust, but right now you've got to finish your breakfast."

"Are we seriously lecturing the kid this early in the morning?" Charlie asked, walking down the stairs.

"We're taking down Bello this morning, and he isn't eating…"

"I said I'm trying… what the fuck do you want me to do, Johnny, make myself sick?" Mike snapped.

"Whoa, whoa… calm down, Levi." Mike pulled away from Charlie as she tried to put a hand on his back, standing up and walking a couple of steps away.

"Can you stop calling me that already? My name is Mike." Mike closed his eyes, shaking his head when he realized that he'd snapped at Charlie, too. "I'm sorry…"

"No, you're fine. I know you aren't a fan of that nickname, and now isn't the time to be using it." Mike felt Charlie wrap him in a hug, pulling him close and sighing. "I just need you to eat this morning. Just a little bit more, okay?" Mike nodded, returning the woman's hug.

"Okay." Mike sat back down, slowly picking up the fork and starting in on the food again.

"How the hell do you get people to do what you want like that?"

"People skills, Johnny. It's a hell of a lot easier to get people to cooperate when you aren't being an asshole." Mike couldn't help smirking, thankful that their attention was off him for the moment as he picked at his food again. However, his relief was short-lived. "Don't play with your food, Mikey. Eat it."

Mike did as he was told, forcing a few more bites of food into his mouth as Charlie watched, before she turned around to make herself a cup of coffee. "So… what's going on after this bust? Are you out, or…?" Mike shrugged in response to Johnny's question.

"The only people that know are here in the house. I… I'm probably going to have to tell Gerry, if Briggs doesn't tell him first. From there… I don't know."

"Whatever happens, it needs to be what's best for you. You're sick…"

"I'm not sick, Charlie," Mike replied.

"Don't pull that bullshit with me. You need help. And I don't know that you can get that here without risking your cover." Mike nodded. "You should talk to that Bureau shrink about all of this, once today's over with. I'm sure he could help you find someone, even if he can't help you himself."

"He'd have to tell the Bureau."

"You've got to tell them something, dude," Johnny replied. "You can't just disappear for a few weeks to get help, and they'll check whatever story you give them. No matter how scared you are of what might happen, the truth's the best card you have to play right now."

"Johnny's right… and you'd better be prepared to do a hell of a lot of explaining when you do," Charlie added. Mike couldn't help starting to feel sick again. "I'm sorry… we should be letting you eat."

"Really not hungry now…"

"C'mon, baby… just a little more, okay?" Charlie asked, rubbing Mike's back.

"Can we just pretend I did, please? Just this once…"

"No can do… not today. You're the lead on this, and you have to be on top of it today. That means I need you to eat. And I mean really eat, not pretend like things are okay."

"I just need a minute," Mike replied.

"You don't have a minute, baby… we've got to get moving this morning."

* * *

"This is good work, Michael. More than I expected." Mike nodded, crossing his arms but being careful not to cover up the mic on his watch.

"I wanted to make sure there would be enough to hold you for a while. These aren't easy to come by, and I can't make people suspicious by having these go missing too often."

"Are you saying you want out, Michael?" Bello asked.

"No, sir. I'm just saying we have to be careful. I can't take these too often, or too many of them. The military is significantly harsher than any civilian court. If you want your supply line to stay open, we have to be careful." Mike watched as Bello looked him over closely, almost as if he was trying to figure Mike out.

"You are good at this, Michael. If I didn't know better, I would think you had been involved in this kind of activity before…"

"I'm just trying to be careful, sir. Look out for everyone's best interests here."

"Good man." Mike watched as Bello picked up one of the bullets, weighing it in his hand for a moment as some of his men watched. "I can only pay you for the first thousand today. I have the money for the rest, but not with me."

"I understand."

"And you trust me to pay you later?" Bello sounded obviously surprised.

"You're a businessman, sir. And we still have business together." Mike watched as Bello nodded.

"Give the man his money." Mike nodded as one of Bello's guys brought over a briefcase of money, showing him the half-million before closing the case and handing it to him.

"Pleasure doing business with you, sir." Mike jumped as he heard the sound of gunfire behind him.

"FBI! On the ground!" Before Mike could even react, Bello had an arm around his neck and a gun pressed against his temple.

"You brought the FBI in here on me, Michael?"

"No, sir…" Mike put his hands up as the TAC team flooded the building, with Johnny in the lead with his gun trained on Bello.

"Put the gun down!"

"Put your gun down, or I shoot the rat…" Mike closed his eyes as he heard the man pull back the hammer.

"Go for it, man… he ain't ours, and I'll get your ass on murder charges, too," Johnny replied. Mike didn't expect Bello to shove him to the ground, but he covered his head and waited for the gunfire to stop. He was thankful when he felt someone grabbing his wrist and putting his hands into a pair of plastic cuffs. "You okay man?" Johnny asked quietly.

"Yeah. You?"

"I got him before he got me." Mike winced as Johnny yanked him to his feet, giving him a second to look around and see what was going on. He swallowed hard when he realized that Johnny hadn't been kidding – Bello was lying on the ground, eyes wide open and still bleeding out of a head wound. "Your ass is mine… I'm gonna love handing you over to the Marines, son. Move it."

Mike was thankful that Johnny shoved him in the back of a patrol car instead of taking him to the van everyone else was being loaded into. He let his head rest back against the back of the seat. "You okay, Mikey?"

"Tired. I think I landed on my arm wrong when he threw me to the ground."

"How bad is it?"

"I can move my hand, but being cuffed hurts. It's probably just bruised…" Mike replied.

"As soon as we get these guys out of here, I'll let you go man."

"No… the guys will suspect something if they don't take me in."

"So we fake it. I let you out for the ride in, and before they take you inside they put them back on," Johnny replied.

"Just don't worry about it, okay? I'll survive for an hour or so." Mike watched as Johnny nodded, sighing.

"Okay, man. Just don't come crying to me about being in pain when they let you go, alright?"

"Yeah. Okay."


	18. Dinner

**The Things They Carried**

_Summary:_ The agents of Graceland are masters of keeping secrets. But sometimes, secrets have a way of coming back to haunt you.

_Disclaimer:_ I own nothing; _Graceland_ belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA.

_A/n:_ So yes, I've now seen this week's episode. And I've gotta say, this show is getting INTENSE. And it's AWESOME. It was especially cool to see them use some stage combat techniques, too – I've done a choke out before (from Daniel Sunjata's side of things) and that is really hard…

* * *

"Dude… what are you still doing in here?" Mike turned around as he heard Johnny's voice from the door of the holding cell. "They haven't let you out yet?"

"Just get these damn things off, Johnny…" Mike began, turning around again so that Johnny could get him out of the handcuffs.

"What the hell? Oh, these assholes are going to get chewed the hell out when Briggs finds out you were stuck in here in cuffs this whole time…" Mike winced as Johnny managed to free his hands, forcing him to bend his left elbow and sending pain shooting through his arm.

"Fuck…"

"You okay man?" Mike tried to move his arm again, shaking his head.

"I can't bend my arm…"

"You land on the joint?" Johnny asked, taking Mike's arm by the wrist and trying to make him move it. "It's swollen. Can you move your fingers?" Mike curled his hand into a fist, wincing.

"It hurts, but yeah." Mike sighed. "So Bello's dead?"

"Hey, you worry about this arm, okay? The case is being dealt with."

"It's my case…"

"And you're injured. That takes priority over everything else right now," Johnny replied. "C'mon… we'll get you some ice, and get Gerry down here to take you to the hospital."

"And while we wait, you can tell me what's going on with the case," Mike replied, taking his ID from the man and putting it on as they walked through the police station to an empty conference room.

"You sit your ass down. I'll get someone to bring some ice while I go call Gerry." Mike closed his eyes, sighing and doing as he was told.

"Hey, Johnny… don't say anything to Silvo about… y'know."

"That's your thing, okay? Not mine." Mike nodded. "It's your story to tell, Mike. But you need to start telling that story to the people who need to know soon, before it hurts you."

"I know, Johnny." Mike sighed. "Where's my cell phone?"

"Right…" Mike smiled as Johnny handed him the phone. "You got a text message from someone named Hollie…"

"Yeah… I have to figure out how to get out of going home for her college graduation…"

"Why don't you just go? It might do you some good to get out of here for a few days, away from all the stress," Johnny replied.

"I don't think going home and having to lie to my whole family about everything I've done in the last few months is exactly a low-stress situation here…" Mike glanced at his phone, reading through his sister's message, sighing. "I don't want to ruin her graduation by showing up with all of my problems right now."

"Dude, do me a favor okay? Tell it to the Bureau shrink, not me," Johnny replied. "I'm going to call Gerry. Do you need anything?"

"Nah, I'm good." Mike closed his eyes, leaning back in the chair and flipping through his contact list until he found the number he was looking for.

"_Hello?_"

"Hey, Hollie…"

* * *

"Hey, dinner time…" Mike groaned at the sound of Paige's voice from the door, forcing himself to sit up. "How's the arm? Johnny told me you landed on it wrong earlier today and fucked up your elbow."

"It's fine."

"Right… because they regularly put casts on when there's no problem," Paige replied. Mike shook his head, sighing.

"I cracked… something. I don't remember everything the doctor said."

"How long?"

"Four weeks. I have to go back on Monday to see if the swelling's gone down enough for a real cast." Mike started putting his arm back in the sling as he spoke, getting ready to go downstairs.

"And your next appointment with the Bureau shrink?"

"Tomorrow morning. Charlie's already offered to drive me down to the FBI building if I can't drive myself," Mike replied. "Is there a reason you're interrogating me right now?"

"I'm not interrogating you…" Paige began.

"You're asking a lot of questions." Mike stood up slowly, closing his eyes for a moment and swaying slightly as everything got fuzzy for a moment. Paige was standing next to him, putting a hand on his back.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. I just stood up a little too fast…"

"Bullshit. When was the last time you ate?"

"Breakfast…" Mike replied. "Lunch kind of got forgotten, with Bello and the hospital and everything…" Mike watched as Paige looked him straight in the eyes for a moment, before nodding.

"Okay. Come on, you need to eat." Mike let Paige lead him down the stairs and into the kitchen, where it seemed as though the whole house was waiting for them. "Sit. I'll get you a plate…"

"I can take care of myself, Paige…" Mike began, trying to take the plate from Paige before she could actually fix it for him. She pulled it out of the way, shaking her head.

"Sit down. Or get yourself something to drink, and then sit down. But you're going to take it easy tonight." Mike sighed, getting himself a glass out of the cabinet and filling it with water from the sink before taking a seat at the table next to Johnny.

"Gerry told you he wants your reports by Monday, right?" Johnny asked.

"Yeah. I figured I'd work on that tomorrow, once I've gotten some rest."

"Don't forget you've got to go see the Bureau shrink in the morning… I'm getting your ass up at eight AM so we won't be late," Charlie replied.

"I think I'm going to be okay to drive myself, honestly…"

"You're going to take those painkillers tonight before bed, and you aren't going to even try driving tomorrow morning. That's final." Mike closed his eyes.

"I can take care of myself."

"I'm not arguing with you, Levi. Eat your dinner."

The meal was quiet, but Mike could feel his housemates watching him as they ate. He managed to choke down most of the plate's contents, but by the time he'd pushed the plate away he was already struggling to keep his food in his stomach. He leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes and trying to focus on his breathing rather than the sick feeling in his stomach.

"Mikey?" Mike opened one eye at the sound of Charlie's voice, not all that surprised to see that most of the other agents had already started clearing the table. "C'mon, baby. Let's go upstairs, so you can get some sleep."

"I'm fine, Charlie."

"Humor me, okay? You've had a rough day, I'm sure that arm's starting to hurt again by now… just let me play Mama Bear for a little while," Charlie replied, putting one arm around his shoulders and starting to help him to his feet. The lightheaded feeling that accompanied him getting up wasn't all that surprising. "Gray out?"

"I'm okay."

"You're still not eating enough," Charlie replied. "We really need to work on that one. But first you're going to come upstairs with me and chill out in my room while I work on paperwork. Where are the pain pills they gave you?"

"In my bathroom," Mike replied.

"We'll get them on the way. And some water, unless you want something else to drink?"

"Water's fine." Mike let Charlie lead the way, not all that surprised when she didn't let him into the bathroom as she got the pill bottle and a glass of water for him. "Why are you really doing this, Charlie? I know you want to watch me for a couple of hours to make sure I don't throw up, but… you're treating me like I'm fragile."

"Because I don't know where your head is. You aren't exactly stable to begin with, and this whole situation is rough."

"So what you're telling me is that I'm unofficially on suicide watch until you can hand me over to the Bureau shrink in the morning," Mike replied.

"I just don't think you should be alone tonight."

"I'm not going to do anything stupid, Charlie." Mike closed his eyes as Charlie sighed, shaking her head.

"I want to believe you, Mike. But according to Briggs, you also said you had everything under control with your eating issues a couple of weeks ago, and now you won't keep anything in you stomach unless we watch you. You aren't exactly self-aware, baby." Mike shook his head, sighing.

"It's not that bad…"

"I'll believe that after you've talked to the shrink, Mikey." Mike looked over at the woman as she reached out to stroke his face. "C'mon, let's go to my room. Grab a pillow."


	19. Therapy

**The Things They Carried**

_Summary:_ The agents of Graceland are masters of keeping secrets. But sometimes, secrets have a way of coming back to haunt you.

_Disclaimer:_ I own nothing; _Graceland_ belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA.

_A/n: _So, I haven't said this yet, but THANK YOU to everyone who has reviewed the story so far. It's always really exciting for me to see my inbox filling up with positive comments from readers – especially those of you who have been commenting on my characterization of Mike. It's something I've seen but never personally experienced, so it's really helpful to have input from those of you who have been there. I hope you all enjoy this chapter, too!

* * *

"Mike. How are you feeling?" Juan asked, standing up from his desk as Mike walked into the office.

"Good, all things considered," Mike replied, smiling. He watched as Juan nodded. "Look, Charlie thinks I'm talking to a shrink right now, and… I think I probably should."

"You have a therapist back in Virginia you can call, don't you?" Juan asked.

"I can't tell him everything, Juan… not about my job…" Mike sighed, shaking his head. "We took down Bello, and I still don't have anything on Briggs. The whole house is expecting me to get help. I know you want to keep me under until we get something, but I _need_ to get help. I'm too far gone…" Mike looked towards the window. "Please say you'll help me."

"Sit down. Let me make some calls, see what I can do."

"Thank you."

"I can't guarantee we can save your career, Mike," Juan warned.

"I know. But right now I'd just be happy with you helping me save my life."

Mike watched as Juan sat back down at his desk, picking up the phone and motioning for Mike to make himself comfortable in one of the chair on the other side. He nodded, slouching down in the seat and waiting for further instructions.

"… Look, I know it's short notice but I have an undercover agent asking for help here…" Mike closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "He's still in my office. I'll bring him down." Mike nodded as Juan put the phone down. "You sure you want to do this?"

"I don't have a choice here… I have to do this." Mike watched as Juan nodded.

"Okay. Follow me." Mike followed the man down the hall to the elevator, where Juan hit the button for the basement. It was completely silent as they rode all the way down and Juan led Mike down the hall and around to the last door on the right. "You're really sure about this?"

"I need this, Juan. I'm positive." Mike watched as Juan knocked on the door, before a woman that reminded Mike of his high school chemistry teacher opened the door.

"I've got it from here, Juan." The woman looked Mike over for a minute, before motioning for him to follow her back into the room. "Have a seat… I'm Dr. Nichole Jackson, but you can call me Nikki. You're…?"

"Mike. Warren."

"Agent Warren… you're at Graceland, right?" Mike nodded. "It's okay, Mike. You can talk to me. Anything you say here is confidential unless I think you're going to hurt yourself or someone else."

"Can what I say here be used to fire me?" Mike asked.

"That depends on what you say. But before I make any recommendations about whether or not you should be an agent, we'll talk about it. I'm not going to do anything without talking to you first." Mike watched as the woman picked up a notepad and sat down in the chair across from his while she spoke. "Why don't you tell me about yourself first. You can tell me why you asked to see me when you're ready."

"I've been struggling for the past couple of weeks… I was diagnosed with an eating disorder when I was twelve, and I thought things were under control. Then I got sick, and it just… spiraled out of control…"

"What is it you do, exactly?"

"I used to restrict, but lately it's just been purging. It's hard to avoid eating when you have a house full of roommates watching you constantly…" Mike began. He looked down at his hands, closing his eyes. "I really didn't want to tell any of them… but my…" Mike stopped, suddenly not sure that he wanted to call Robyn his sister after everything that had happened since she'd reappeared in his life.

"Take your time, Mike. We don't have to talk about everything today," Nikki replied. Mike nodded.

"My… my sister showed up a couple of weeks ago. Paige arrested her in some kind of drug sting, and she did everything she could to fuck up my life. Made threats, told Paige just enough about my past to make her suspicious. And I didn't want to lie to her, so I told her everything…" Mike had to stop, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. "Briggs knew something was up… I felt like I had to tell him. He was the one who first suggested I should tell someone at the Bureau."

"When was this?"

"Last month. After that conversation with Briggs, I got up the next morning and went surfing by myself, trying to figure things out. I'm not very good at surfing yet, and I ended up getting thrown into the pier. I was lucky… just a concussion and a nasty case of pneumonia. But…" Mike stopped again, not sure what he wanted to say next.

"When did things start getting out of control?"

"I don't know, exactly. Briggs and Paige were keeping an eye on me, but they let things slide while I was sick… Paige didn't like it, but Briggs was convinced that it was just because I didn't feel well. I think I was convinced that it was okay, too. But the longer it went on, the harder it got. I had to go back to work before the concussion was fully gone… back to teaching Bello's thugs how to shoot properly. My head hurt so bad afterwards… and I couldn't stop myself from puking. From there… I just sort of lost control. It felt so good to feel empty for a change, and I couldn't stop once I got started…"

Mike closed his eyes, taking a couple of deep breaths and trying to calm himself down. He could feel his anxiety level rising all the time, not knowing what the woman was thinking about his story. "Mike… what's going on right now?"

"I'm… I'm afraid that you're going to say I'm unfit for the job… that you're going to suggest that I need to quit or something."

"When does that cast come off?" Nikki asked.

"Four weeks, give or take a couple of days."

"Then the way I see it, we have four weeks to work on this before I have to make any kind of recommendation."

* * *

"How did it go?" Charlie asked as soon as Mike was back in the truck.

"Okay, I guess. She isn't having me kicked out of Graceland, at least…" Mike began.

"She? I thought yesterday you said it was a guy…"

"He wanted me to see someone else… once I told him what was going on. He wasn't comfortable dealing with this," Mike replied. Mike looked up as Charlie put a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sure it's okay." Mike nodded, closing his eyes. "You want Hector's? I heard you liked his shrimp tacos…"

"I'm really not in the mood, Charlie…"

"Well what are you in the mood for?"

"I have reports to write. I really just want to go home and get started," Mike replied.

"You need to eat something, baby. You're not going to start starving yourself again just because the Bello case is over… as soon as that arm's healed, they're going to expect you back out in the field doing your job."

"Maybe I shouldn't be doing this job…" Mike wasn't all that surprised when Charlie pulled over, turning off the truck and turning to face him. "Please don't start with me, Charlie…"

"No, we're going to talk about this. You're a good agent, Mike. Yeah, you fuck up sometimes – but we all do. I'm not going to let you throw away your career over something like this. Not when I know you can beat this thing."

"You don't know that, Charlie…"

"You've done it before," Charlie replied. Mike closed his eyes as Charlie reached out and stroked his cheek. "I get that this is hard for you, Mikey. But you've been doing so well… I don't want you to fuck things up, baby. Not after you've worked so hard to get this far."

Mike sat there silently, thinking about what Charlie said. He closed his eyes as she squeezed his shoulder, starting to rub his back. "Please talk to me…"

"I spent the last couple of hours talking, Charlie…"

"Talk to me. Tell me what I can do to help you."

"I just want to go home."

"Okay. I'll take you home."

The rest of the car ride was silent, with Charlie occasionally putting her hand on his shoulder as if she was trying to make sure he was still in the truck. Or maybe as if she thought he needed someone to keep him grounded, at least until they could get back to the house.

Mike wasn't all that surprised when Charlie stopped him before they actually went back in the house, but he did his best to avoid actually getting caught in a conversation with her. "Look at me, Mike." Mike looked down into her eyes. "Whatever happened, whatever is going on in your head right now… you're going to be okay. And you don't have to explain yourself to anyone in this house until you're ready." Mike nodded, closing his eyes and sighing as Charlie wrapped him in a hug.

"I need to get out of here."

"Didn't you say something about your baby sister graduating from college? You could go home, go see her…" Charlie suggested.

"I can't take all of this back there, Charlie."

"Why not? They're your family, baby… they've been through all of this with you before, maybe it will help to have their support through all of this, too." Mike shook his head, sighing.

"You wouldn't understand…"

"Try me."

"My family's really fucked up… we were okay until my mom died, and then things just kind of went to shit. Half of my siblings don't talk to me outside of the holidays, and I was the only one still talking to Robyn before she tried to blackmail me…"

"She what?" Charlie asked.

"It isn't important… Paige took care of it, it's over."

"That hardly makes me feel better here, kid. What about your parents?" Mike shook his head, sighing.

"My stepmother hates me, Charlie. If I show up back home like this…" Mike shook his head again, closing his eyes. "I can't do that to Hollie."

"But you can hurt her by not showing up for something this important?"

"Charlie…"

"Just think about it, Mike… you kept talking about how you need to get out of here for a while. Maybe going back home to Virginia for a little while could help," Charlie replied. Mike let his head rest on top of the woman's head as she gave him another hug. "Come on… you've got paperwork to do and it's going to take you forever with that bum arm."


	20. Bad Days

**The Things They Carried**

_Summary:_ The agents of Graceland are masters of keeping secrets. But sometimes, secrets have a way of coming back to haunt you.

_Disclaimer:_ I own nothing; _Graceland_ belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA.

_A/n:_ So this chapter seems to be mostly setup, now that I'm looking over it again. But I'm happy considering how quickly I got this one together and how many times I started over. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy!

* * *

"How's the paperwork coming?" Mike looked up as Briggs knocked on his door, leaning against it.

"It would be easier if I had both hands to work with, honestly," Mike replied, leaning back in his desk chair with a sigh. Mike waited, wondering what Briggs really wanted.

"Charlie told me about the conversation you two had earlier today." Mike nodded slowly. "She also told me you didn't eat much at lunch."

"I'm not in the field…" Mike began.

"No, you're not. But if you want to be out there again, you're going to have to take care of yourself properly. Don't think for a second that I won't have your ass out of here if you aren't eating." Mike nodded, sighing.

"I know… I'm just not in a good place right now…"

"Do you need to get out of here, Mike? Honestly…"

"I've got a flight to Virginia Tuesday morning."

"For your sister's graduation?" Mike nodded. "How long are you staying?"

"Ceremony's Thursday morning. I'm on my way back here first thing Friday." Mike glanced at his computer screen, hitting the save button before closing the computer. "I'm not sure if I'm dreading my stepmother or the couch at my sister's place more…"

"No childhood bedroom to sleep in?" Briggs asked.

"I shared a room with my three brothers… besides, that would mean six hours in a car with my dad and stepmom to actually go to the ceremony, not to mention the drive to and from the airport." Mike watched as Briggs smiled, shaking his head.

"Evil stepmother, huh?"

"Alice is a special breed of crazy… and my dad is a hundred percent with her on everything. She's never liked me. The, uh… the second time I was hospitalized… it was the week before the wedding. She decided that I planned that timing just to annoy her… even though I'd spent two months hiding the fact that I was relapsing and only ended up in the hospital because Robyn caught me purging at school…"

"So, what… she got pissed off about having to postpone the wedding?" Briggs asked.

"I spent their wedding day in a hospital bed with a feeding tube down my throat. She convinced my father to go through with it without me there."

"That's cold, man."

"That's my stepmother. She's also the one that kicked Robyn out of the house with no money and no place to go a couple of months later." Mike watched as Briggs shook his head.

"Maybe going home isn't the best thing for you…"

"I'm just going for Hollie. I'm barely going to see anyone else in my family, and I'm definitely not going to Covington," Mike replied.

"Just remember… you can't tell her the truth about your life out here. If she asks questions, you have to lie."

"I know."

"How are you going to explain the arm?" Mike shrugged, glancing down at the cast and picking at a loose thread of the material.

"I… haven't figured that out yet. Kind of have to wait and see if I'm still in this thing or I get an actual cast before I leave. If I get a real cast, I can use the surfing accident as a cover and explain the scar, too. If I'm still in this thing, I'll have to figure out something else."

"Let me know if you need help thinking of something. We'll figure it out." Mike nodded, sighing. "C'mon… take a break from the report writing, come with me to go get something to eat."

"This is taking me forever, Briggs… I don't really have time to stop…"

"I'll make Gerry understand, if that's what you're worried about. You'll be able to do better work once you've gotten something in your stomach. I'm not taking no for an answer here, so you might as well do it," Briggs replied. Mike nodded slowly, standing up and sighing as everything went fuzzy for a moment. "You okay?"

"Yeah… just got a little lightheaded," Mike replied, forcing a smile as everything cleared up enough for him to walk over to pick up his wallet and keys from the dresser.

"Paige and Charlie mentioned that, too," Briggs replied. "We've gotta start keeping a closer eye on what you're eating… you're looking pale, even for you."

"I know." Mike closed his eyes, sighing. "You guys are talking about me now?"

"We're just trying to keep up with what's going on, keep an eye on you. None of us want to see you hurt yourself." Mike shoved his wallet into his back pocket, picking up his keys and looking at the man.

"Let's just go already. I've still got a lot of work to do on those reports for Gerry…"

* * *

"You don't look so good, Mike."

"It was a bad weekend," Mike replied, closing his eyes and leaning back in the chair in Nikki's office. "I'm leaving in the morning for Virginia. My sister's graduating college… and it's stressful knowing I'm going to have to deal with my dad and stepmom, at least for the day. Not to mention all of the paperwork I had to get done this morning…"

"You don't seem all that thrilled about seeing your family," Nikki commented. "It's been what… three months?"

"Since I saw Hollie. I haven't seen anyone else since Christmas." Mike bit down on his bottom lip for a moment. "My stepmother doesn't like me. She thinks I purposely try to hurt myself for my dad's attention… that I'm jealous of her…"

"She's actually accused you of that?"

"Not to my face… but she's not exactly hard to figure out," Mike replied. "Nothing I did was ever good enough to please her. She thinks I'm wasting my time working for the FBI, when I could be a lawyer or doctor or something…"

"But you didn't want to do either of those jobs…" Mike shrugged.

"I thought about going to law school. But prosecutors don't make enough to please her, either, and I'm not okay with representing criminals. I want to take them down, not get them out of trouble."

"You want her approval?"

"I want her to stop telling my dad what a failure I am," Mike replied. He looked down at the new cast on his arm, sighing. "She started turning him against me shortly after they met… said that I was selfish for not being able to handle my mother's death. That I was desperate for attention and he shouldn't be encouraging me." Mike closed his eyes for a moment. "She actually convinced my dad to go through with the wedding while I was in the hospital, because she thought I'd relapsed on purpose to ruin her wedding plans."

"Mike… do you really think going home right now is a good idea?" Nikki asked.

"Honestly?"

"Honestly."

"Right now I don't know where I need to be. I'm stressing out my roommates at Graceland, and I haven't told anyone outside the house or the Bureau that I'm relapsing," Mike replied. "I just… I don't really have anyone else. Or anywhere else to go."

"Do you trust me, Mike?" Mike looked up as the woman asked the question, confused. "I'm going to ask you to do something, and before I do I want to know if you trust me."

Mike sat there for a minute before responding. "I do."

"I want you to tell your family. Your friends. Anyone you have a relationship outside of the house."

"I can't tell Alice," Mike replied, shaking his head.

"You said you trusted me, Mike. And I think you need to be honest with everyone about the fact that you're struggling." Mike closed his eyes, trying to think of a response. "I know you're afraid. This is difficult. But you'll be okay. You can do this." Mike shook his head, closing his eyes and fighting back tears.

"Can… uh, can we just call it a day? I need to pack…"

"Don't shut down on me, Mike…" Nikki began. Mike stood up, shaking her head and sighing.

"I'm not shutting down. I just… I need some time, okay?"

"Take care of yourself, Mike. Call me, if anything happens while you're in Virginia. If you need anything." Mike nodded, sighing and leaving the room.

As soon as he was outside in his car, Mike pulled out his phone and dialed the first number he could think of.

"_Hey, Mike. I wasn't expecting to hear from you._"

"Hey, Abbey." Mike looked around for a moment, sighing. "Can… are you free, right now?"

"_Mike… I'm back in Baltimore._" Mike felt his heart sink at the answer. "_Is everything okay? You sound upset…_"

"I… I just wanted to talk to you. It's not important."

"_It sounds pretty important… Mike, is everything alright?_"

"Yeah… yeah. Everything's fine. I just wanted to see you…" Mike took a deep breath, sighing. "I should let you go. I'm sure you have a ton of stuff to do…"

"_No. I mean… if you need to talk…_"

"It's fine. Really."

"_Mike…_" Mike could hear the concern in the woman's voice. "_What's going on?_" Mike took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, Abbey…"

"_Mike… let me call Paige for you. Where are you?_"

"No… no, I'm okay. Please, just let me tell you…" Mike stopped, closing his eyes. "I'm relapsing. When I… last time we talked, I'd just gotten finished throwing up my lunch. I'd thrown up everything I'd eaten for three days before that…"

"_God, Mike…_"

"I didn't want to tell you… I didn't want you to worry about me. But my therapist said I need to start telling people the truth, and… I care for you too much to not tell you."

"_I'm coming out there…_"

"No. No… I'm coming to Virginia tomorrow for my little sister's college graduation…"

"_So then I'll drive down and meet you at the airport… I can go with you_."

"No. I'm going to get a rental car…" Mike began. "Can we… would you meet me somewhere, when I get out there? I just… I need someone to keep my head on straight while I'm out there. My family's kind of a disaster, and I don't know what I'm going to find when I get there…"

"_Of course… where are you going to be? I can come to you…_"

"No, no… I'm staying at my sister's place in Richmond. I can meet you halfway… Bethesda, maybe?"

"_Okay. I know a great little restaurant; I'll text you the address. Do you want to go tomorrow?_"

"I won't get to Richmond until kind of late… Wednesday?"

"_Yeah. Wednesday._" Mike smiled slightly, feeling a little better knowing that he would be seeing Abbey again soon.


	21. Sisters

**The Things They Carried**

_Summary:_ The agents of Graceland are masters of keeping secrets. But sometimes, secrets have a way of coming back to haunt you.

_Disclaimer:_ I own nothing; _Graceland_ belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA.

_A/n:_ So… holy crap, that EPISODE! I'm seriously having trouble processing what just happened, and I've watched it twice already (FYI, USA does a repeat airing around 1 AM EST on Friday – and yes, I have stayed up to watch it on multiple occasions!). Anyway, obviously this story is NOT following canon – not sure that I need to say that, but in case anyone is just joining in here I thought I should say that after tonight's episode! Hope you all enjoy the next chapter!

* * *

Mike dropped his suitcase next to Hollie's couch, sitting down and closing his eyes. He was thankful she'd left him a key under the mat before going out to run her errands; it meant that he would be able to relax for a little while without having anyone fussing over him.

"Mike?" Mike opened his eyes, smiling over at his little sister as she played with his hair.

"Hey…"

"Bad flight?"

"Just a long day," Mike replied. "How are you?" He sat up as he spoke, turning to face the girl with a smile.

"I'm good… what happened to you arm?"

"Little surfing accident a couple of weeks ago. It's nothing…"

"Surfing? You?" Hollie asked, laughing slightly.

"My roommates love it… they insisted on teaching me. I decided to go out by myself one day, and it didn't end well."

"I'm guessing you learned your lesson, huh?" Mike nodded, sighing and closing his eyes again. "Tired?"

"Exhausted, actually. I kind of think I just want to sleep for a while, if that's okay?"

"I've got some friends coming over for dinner, but you can crash in my bed until it's time to eat if you want… I'll come wake you up in a little while." Mike nodded, standing up slowly. He closed his eyes as everything went fuzzy again, making him nearly lose his balance. "Mike? Are you okay?" Hollie stood up quickly, putting her hand on his back.

"Yeah, it's nothing…" Mike began. He forced a smile, before starting back towards Hollie's bedroom.

"Are you sure? You look sick… maybe I should cancel dinner tonight."

"No… I'm fine, Holls. It's just been a bad day, that's all." Mike wasn't all that surprised when Hollie walked over, pressing a hand to his forehead. "I'm not sick. I just need to get some rest. I'm sure I'll feel better by the time your friends get here, okay?"

Hollie just looked at him for a moment, before finally responding. "Okay. Go lay down. I need to start making dinner, anyway."

Mike did as he was told, curling up under the covers in Hollie's bed and quickly falling asleep. It didn't last very long, however, and Mike woke up to the sound of Hollie talking on the phone with someone.

"I don't know what's going on, but he looks awful… I don't know. I'm afraid to ask him if that's what's going on… Yeah, I can cancel my plans tonight, if you can come. I don't think I can deal with this on my own if he's…" Mike closed his eyes, sighing and pretending to still be asleep as Hollie walked into the room. "I don't think we should call Dad and Alice, not until we know for sure. She's always been so awful to him, I'm afraid it would make things worse."

Mike watched the clock next to the bed after Hollie left the room, waiting to see exactly what was going on. He knew it was about him; Hollie had caught on that something wasn't right, and she was calling in reinforcements. Roughly an hour after the phone call, Mike heard someone knocking on the door.

"Where is he?" Mike closed his eyes, instantly recognizing Christine's voice.

"I let him lay down in my room… he said he was tired, that he'd just had a rough day. But he was really pale and shaky, and I'm not really sure what's going on."

"Did you ask him?"

"I was a kid, Christine. I don't know how to deal with this…" Hollie trailed off. "He said he had a surfing accident a few weeks ago… he's got a pretty nasty scar on his face, and his arm's broken. I don't know if that has anything to do with what's going on, but…"

"I'll talk to him. Were you making dinner?"

"Yeah."

"Go work on that, okay? I'll talk to Mike, find out what's really going on here, and then we'll eat." Mike opened his eyes as he felt Christine sitting down on the bed next to him. "You heard us talking?"

"I heard the phone call an hour ago." Mike closed his eyes as Christine reached up and pushed his hair to the side, looking at the scar on his forehead. "It really was a surfing accident. The waves break to the left, towards the pier. I got too close and got thrown around a little bit, had to be pulled out of the water."

"But you're okay."

"But I'm okay."

"And the arm?"

"I hit the pier."

"That cast is too pristine to be a few weeks old," Christine replied. Mike smiled.

"Maybe you should be the FBI agent, not me."

"Seriously… what happened?"

"We were taking someone down, he got violent and threw me to the ground. I landed wrong." Mike didn't like having to tell Christine even that much of the truth, but it was just vague enough to still protect everyone involved.

"And you couldn't tell Hollie because she's too easily upset."

"Exactly." Mike smiled, reaching out to take his sister's hand. "I know why you're here."

"Are you going to tell me the truth, or do I need to check you out for myself?"

"You and I both know you're going to check no matter what I tell you right now," Mike replied. "I'm not a kid any more… I know you're holding my hand like that because you're checking my pulse right now."

"It's slow."

"I've been struggling. I didn't keep down breakfast today and I skipped lunch. But I'm working on it, and I'm already getting help."

"And yet you're still restricting and purging," Christine replied. Mike watched as she sighed, shaking her head. "Sit up." Mike did as she said, closing his eyes as everything went fuzzy again. "How long have you been having issues with gray outs?"

"Pretty much the whole time. My blood pressure drops…"

"I'm a doctor, Mike. You don't have to explain it to me." Mike nodded slowly, letting his sister slip a hand under his shirt and feel his ribs. "You aren't as thin as I would have expected…"

"I'm getting help, Christine. Really."

"Who knows you're sick again?"

"My roommates. My control agent and an FBI shrink. The girl I was dating…" Mike replied. "You can't tell Dad and Alice what's going on. You know she'll accuse me of trying to ruin Hollie's graduation." Mike watched his sister for a moment, wondering what she would say.

"If you can promise me you're going to eat and take care of yourself properly now, I'll help you keep it a secret from them." Mike nodded, smiling at the older woman.

"Thank you."

"I'm only doing this because I know she messes with your head in a bad way. You don't need her shit on top of everything else you have going on right now," Christine replied. Mike nodded as she reached out to him, pulling him into a hug. "God, I hate this… we all thought you were cured."

Mike sighed. "I know. I did, too."

"Can you really keep working for the Bureau like this?"

"Nikki says we have until the cast comes off in a few weeks to figure things out. I don't know what's going to happen, but I'm doing everything I can to keep my job." Mike sighed. "I… I keep thinking that maybe I need to go back to the hospital, but I can't afford it. And I can't ask anyone to help me with this."

"You know that if you need help…"

"I'm not asking you for money. I'm not asking anyone for money, Christine."

"You don't have to ask. I'm offering to help you with this."

"What about Clint? Or Janey?" Mike asked.

"My family will be fine, Mike. We can afford to help you out, if this is what you really need right now," Christine replied. He closed his eyes, sighing. "I know that you hate being indebted to people, Mikey. I really do get that. But you have got to get the help you need before it's too late…"

"I know." Mike sighed, shaking his head. "I need to talk to Hollie. I need to be honest with her."

"You need to be honest with a lot of people. We have five other siblings…" Christine began.

"Six."

"No one's heard from Robert in years, Mikey." Mike shook his head, sighing.

"I have." Mike watched as Christine looked at him in surprise. "It's Robyn now."

"Fully transitioned?"

"Yeah. I kept in touch with her for a while after Dad kicked her out. She stopped responding a couple of years ago, but she got back in contact with me about a month ago." Mike looked down at the bedspread, shaking his head. "She tried to blackmail me into helping her get out of some legal trouble."

"What kind of trouble?"

"Drug charges. Apparently she's been a drug mule a few times… I don't know all the details, but she's in some pretty deep shit."

"Is there anything we can do for her?" Christine asked. Mike shook his head, sighing.

"She'll turn on you the second she sees a way to make it benefit her, Christine. Just… don't bother, okay? It's not worth getting tangled up in this mess of hers."

"What mess?" Mike looked up, smiling at Hollie as she stood in the doorway. "What's going on?"

"Nothing you need to worry about, Holls," Mike replied, smiling up at the younger woman.

"That's bullshit and we all know it, Mike. I'm twenty-two… whatever's going on, I can handle it." Mike glanced at Christine, who closed her eyes for a moment before turning to look at Hollie.

"Robert became Robyn, then became a drug mule, got caught, and tried to blackmail Mike into getting her out of trouble with the law."

"She's now in jail. And the best thing any of us can do right now is to leave it alone," Mike added. He watched silently as Hollie took a moment to process the information. "I told you, nothing you need to worry about."

"God… that is… absolutely insane." Mike nodded.

"Yeah." Mike shook his head. "Look, I know why you called Christine. You were right. But I'm getting help, and it's going to be under control." Mike wasn't all that surprised when Hollie immediately walked over to the bed, wrapping him in a tight hug.

"Mikey…"

"It's okay, Holls… I'm okay…" Mike began, rubbing the woman's back and closing his eyes. "This is just a little bump in the road, sweetie… I'm going to be fine."

"You're hurting yourself…" Hollie began.

"I know. I really am trying, though. I'm getting help."

"Mike…"

"Hollie… the best thing we can do right now is feed him," Christine began.

"Right. Food. Good thing dinner's ready…" Mike sighed as Hollie finally pulled away from him.

"I really will be okay, Hollie. I promise."


	22. Support

**The Things They Carried**

_Summary:_ The agents of Graceland are masters of keeping secrets. But sometimes, secrets have a way of coming back to haunt you.

_Disclaimer:_ I own nothing; _Graceland_ belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA.

_A/n:_ So yay, new chapter! I don't have much to say, honestly, although I do want to address one piece of criticism I received on the last chapter re: Christine's comments about Mike's physical condition. It's very true that not all people with eating disorders are thin; Christine's expectation comes from her previous experience with Mike's illness, not a misguided belief about what physical characteristics are indicative of eating disorders. In their past experience with this, Mike has lost dangerous amounts of weight. I apologize if there was any confusion in the last chapter because I didn't make that clear!

* * *

Mike closed his eyes as Christine pulled into the parking spot she'd chosen. "You really don't have to do this, you know," Mike commented.

"I'm sorry, but I really don't trust you right now."

"Abbey knows about everything. She isn't going to let me get away with anything." Mike didn't even begin to move to get out of the vehicle.

"Good. Then I can spend a couple of hours shopping while the two of you talk. But I wasn't about to let you leave Hollie's apartment right after breakfast by yourself."

"I can do this, Christine."

"But you haven't been, Michael." Mike glanced over at the woman, shaking his head as she started using his full first name. "You need help. You need someone to watch and make sure you aren't going to hurt yourself, whether you intend to do it or not." Mike shook his head, sighing. "Go spend time with your girlfriend. I'll catch up with the two of you later."

Mike got out of the car slowly, sending a quick text to Abbey to let her know he was on the way before starting to leave the parking garage. It took him a couple of minutes to figure out where he was going, but he finally made it to the restaurant just a couple of minutes after they had decided to meet.

"Excuse me, Mr. Pilot…" Mike smiled as Abbey came up behind him, putting an arm around his waist and positioning herself next to him so that his right arm was around her shoulders.

"Hey." Mike leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against the woman's forehead, smiling. "God, I've missed you."

"It's been what, two weeks?" Abbey asked. Mike closed his eyes.

"I really don't want to think about that day…"

"Pretty sure the dumpee is supposed to be the one with that line," Abbey replied. Mike shook his head, biting down on his bottom lip. "Sorry. You probably aren't even talking about that…"

"No, I am…" Mike began. "There are a lot of things about that day that I don't like. That's definitely one of them." Mike stopped talking as one of the hostesses came up to seat them at a table, waiting until she was gone before he turned back to Abbey across the booth. "I… I can't lie and say I don't still want to be with you. But I don't think I can handle going back to what we were, either. At least not right now."

Mike watched as Abbey nodded, sighing. "I can respect that. But where _does_ that put us, Mike? Because I'm not going to lie, I'm still in love with you."

"Can we just… try to be friends? At least for now…"

"I'm willing to try, if you're willing to tell me the truth and be honest about what's going on with you right now." Mike nodded. "What happened to your arm? It wasn't broken the last time I saw you…"

Mike had to think quickly; he hadn't even thought about coming up with a cover to tell Abbey about his broken arm. "I was doing some maintenance on a plane… lost my balance, fell off the ladder. I just landed wrong and cracked something in a few places."

"It doesn't have anything to do with the eating disorder?" Mike shook his head. He sighed as their waitress stopped by, taking their drink orders quickly before walking away. "We should probably figure out what we want to eat for lunch. I hope this place is okay…"

"I'm sure it'll be fine," Mike replied, glancing down at the menu. "Their menu lights up…"

"Yeah. Pretty cool, huh?"

"Yeah." Mike looked over the menu, not really sure what he could eat from the list. It all sounded good, but it also sounded like food that he would never be able to keep in his stomach if he did actually try to eat it.

"If you're having trouble deciding, the hamburgers are really good."

"I… I'm not really hungry right now," Mike replied.

"Are you sure? I mean, it's lunchtime…"

"I had a big breakfast." Mike watched Abbey for a moment as she looked at him.

"You're lying to me." Mike closed his eyes, sighing. "Mike… this is worse than you let me believe on the phone, isn't it?"

"I'm just… coming home has been a hell of a lot harder than I thought it would be. I've got two of my sisters breathing down my neck about what's going on, and I'm terrified my stepmother is going to find out…" Mike sighed, burying his face in his hand. "Christine tried to keep me from coming this morning. Wouldn't let me come alone."

"They're your sisters, Mike… they care about you."

"It's not that simple… it's never that simple," Mike replied. He closed the menu, leaning back in his seat. "Christine offered to help me pay to go back to inpatient. But… there are strings attached, even if she hasn't said anything about them yet."

"Do you really think they're going to be that bad, though? I mean, this is your sister we're talking about…"

"Christine doesn't think things through very well… as soon as I get there the money will suddenly become a problem, and she'll go to our dad about it before she'll tell me." Mike watched as Abbey raised an eyebrow, confused. "She's done it before… my brother Chris has a gambling problem…"

"God, Mike… how many siblings do you have?" Abbey asked.

"There were nine of us, counting Angela."

"Nine…"

"My parents were good Roman Catholics… no birth control. There probably would have been more, if Angela hadn't been so sick." Mike leaned back in his seat as their waitress brought back their drinks, glancing down at the menu and trying to quickly make a decision about what he was going to eat. He was grateful when Abbey took control and ordered an entrée for him, sending the waitress away quickly.

"How did I not know you were Catholic?" Abbey asked.

"I'm not. I did the whole first communion thing, went through the ritual and everything. But I quit going to a long time ago." Mike leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes. "I'm really sorry, Abbey. About everything…"

"Stop apologizing, okay? I can't even begin to understand what you're going through right now… being so sick." He felt Abbey reach out and squeeze his hand. "It's going to be okay. You'll get this all figured out, and then we can figure out where we stand."

Mike shook his head, leaning forward to look the woman in the eyes. "I don't understand how you can put up with my shit…"

"I care about you, Mike. Even if we're just meant to be friends in the end… you're one of the few truly good guys I've met, let alone dated. I'm always going to have some kind of feelings for you."

"You're too good for me," Mike sighed, shaking his head.

"If you don't take Christine's help, what will you do?" Mike shrugged, shaking his head.

"I don't know… I have to figure out what my insurance will cover. If it'll cover anything…"

"But it's insurance… and this is a medical issue."

"It's psychological…" Mike shook his head again. "I don't know… it's weird. They don't always cover it… they might cover the therapist, but not any kind of inpatient help."

"That's horrible…"

"I know. I want to get better, but it feels like there are so many things working against me at this point that I'm not even sure I know where to go from here."

"Let me help you." Mike's brows furrowed in confusion. "My family…"

"No." Mike leaned back shaking his head and pulling away from Abbey. "No, I can't let you do that…"

"I can at least ask, Mike…" Mike shook his head again, closing his eyes.

"I can't pull you into this like that, Abbey…"

"Why can't you let me try to help you?" Abbey asked.

"Because I'm afraid of letting you down. Again." Mike stared down at the table instead of looking up at the woman. "I… I know that I'm going to relapse again. That I'm going to disappoint you if I accept your help and it isn't enough to keep me from doing this again."

"Mike… look at me." Mike glanced up, surprised at the look of concern on the woman's face. "I am not going to be disappointed in you if you relapse. I just want you to be okay." Mike nodded slowly. "I hate to see you hurting like this… to see you so confused and upset."

"I'm sorry…"

"It isn't your fault."

"I'm hurting you."

"Mike… you're hurting yourself. That's what I'm worried about here," Abbey replied. "I don't think you've failed just because you've relapsed, okay? It's not a failure… not until you give up fighting this. And you haven't given up yet."

"But… in two years, or ten, or whenever… do you really think you'll always feel that way?"

"Mike…"

"This isn't easy to fix, Abbey… there's no magic pill I can take or perfect treatment plan that will make me all better in a few weeks. And it kills me to think that I'm dragging you into all of this…"

"Mike…" Mike looked up as Abbey reached across and took his hand again, squeezing it and looking him straight in the eye. "I love you. And if I wasn't okay with being part of this, I wouldn't have agreed to meet with you."


	23. Confrontations

**The Things They Carried**

_Summary:_ The agents of Graceland are masters of keeping secrets. But sometimes, secrets have a way of coming back to haunt you.

_Disclaimer:_ I own nothing; _Graceland_ belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA.

_A/n:_ So yay for another chapter… I apologize if these become infrequent soon – my final semester of graduate school starts in about 12 hours. Oh, and I start my first student teaching internship on Monday. So yeah, I have a crazy amount to do and I'm going to be super busy for the next nine months of my life…

* * *

Mike picked at his lunch, trying to ignore the pointed looks he kept receiving from his step-mother.

"God… either eat it or send it back, Michael. But stop playing with your food. You're twenty-six years old, it's time to grow up." Mike closed his eyes, putting down the fork and pushing the plate away, leaving his food almost totally uneaten even as Hollie put a hand on his shoulder.

"Please just eat today, Mikey," Hollie whispered, squeezing his shoulder gently. "Please…"

"Are we really doing this again, Michael? I thought we were done with this bullshit after the last time…" Mike stood up at his father's words, pushing the chair back under the table.

"I need some air," Mike replied, heading for the front door of the restaurant. He felt sick, suddenly wanting nothing more than to get rid of the diet soda he'd been drinking. But he couldn't very well do that in front of a restaurant, knowing that his family would be watching him through the windows. So instead, Mike pulled out his phone and dialed the first number he could think of.

"_It's nine AM and I just got to sleep after spending the whole night with a really fucked up CI. This had better be good, Levi._" Mike smiled at the nickname, thankful Charlie didn't sound nearly as pissed off as her words implied.

"Jägermeister and dubstep?"

"_God, I wish… he ended up being useless. Stop stalling and tell me why you're calling me before noon_." Mike sighed, leaning against his rental car.

"I'm out with my family and it's getting bad… I just need someone to talk me down," Mike replied.

"_What's going on, baby?_"

Mike bit down on his bottom lip for a moment. He could hear the concern in Charlie's voice as she spoke. "She keeps telling me to grow up, making comments about how I look…" Mike paused for a moment. "I didn't actually tell them, but my dad figured out what was going on and I just couldn't sit there and listen to the lecture…"

"_Are you okay?_"

"Other than not being able to make myself eat anything, I'm fine." Mike couldn't help the biting tone. "God, I'm sorry Charlie… I'm not mad at you. I just… I don't even know what I am right now, and I'm taking it out on you…"

"_Because you're upset and you don't have anywhere else to put your anger right now_."

"You sound like Nikki…" Mike shook his head. "I just… I just needed to get away for a few minutes. Before I did something I would regret."

"_Mikey, if you need to get out of there you shouldn't feel guilty. You've got to take care of yourself first right now,_" Charlie replied. "_Get yourself something you can eat, get away from your family if you need to._" Mike glanced up, sighing as he saw Christine walking across the parking lot towards him.

"My sister is coming out here…"

"_Hey… you don't have to give in to anything she wants you to do if you aren't okay with it, Mikey._"

"I should probably go before she gets here…"

"_Call me if you need me, okay?_"

"Thanks, Charlie." Mike hung up the phone, shoving it in his pocket and watching as Christine approached, her arms crossed.

"Was that really necessary, Mike?"

"I felt like I was suffocating in there, Christine… I didn't want to do something I would regret," Mike replied, closing his eyes for a moment. "She didn't even wait five minutes before she started in on me."

"That's just how she is, Mike… you know that as well as I do. You just have to ignore her…"

"Ignore her, Christine? Really? Because ignoring a problem has really been going _so_ well for me lately…" Mike replied. The bite in his tone was back, but this time Mike really didn't feel guilty for it.

"What is your problem, Mike? You weren't ever like this before you left for California…"

"You barely know me, Christine… you have no idea who I am, or who I was…" Mike turned to look at his sister. "You weren't there… you were living your own life away at school. And you've never cared enough to really understand what it was like, what it's _still_ like dealing with this."

"I'm a doctor, Mike," Christine began.

"You're a dermatologist! You know the side effects, but you don't understand the psychological part and you don't care to know…"

"I'm doing my best to help you…" Mike closed his eyes, shaking his head again.

"All you ever ask me is whether or not I'm eating, what I'm eating, whether or not I'm throwing up… but that's all you ever bother to ask about. And if I'm not actively sick, if you don't have a reason to think I'm relapsing, you don't care."

"You don't know…"

"No, Christine… _you_ don't know! You have no clue what my life has been like since Mom died…"

"You aren't the only one that lost her!"

"But I never got the chance to say goodbye!" Mike closed his eyes, leaning back against the car again. "I never got to see her… no one told me what was going on. I was ten, and all I ever knew was that my mother was gone and she wasn't coming back. I thought she'd abandoned us…"

"You knew she was dead, Mike…" Christine began.

"No, I didn't. Not until the funeral." Mike could feel the tears starting to sting at his eyes, making him feel even worse. "I lost my sister, and then my mother, and then everything about my life changed before I even knew what was happening. And no one would talk to me… no one would tell me what was going on. And then I got depressed and no one saw it… or if they did, they didn't care enough to do anything about it."

"You were just a kid…"

"I was old enough." Mike shook his head, reaching up to wipe away the tears. "I was old enough to know what was going on. I was old enough to care. And no one bothered to see that I wasn't okay. Not until it was almost too late."

* * *

Mike was really starting to wish he hadn't tried to eat something on the plane; he'd already lost his breakfast before departure, and now with less than an hour left in his flight the pretzels and soda he'd eaten a little earlier were threatening to come back up as well. He closed his eyes, trying to will himself to keep the food down because he knew Paige would notice if his breath smelled funny. If it had been anyone else picking him up from the airport, he might not have cared quite so much.

Mike could only keep the food down for so long, though, and after a few moments of trying to swallow back the bile he was forced to get up and rush back towards the bathroom at the back of the plane, barely getting the door closed before he was leaning over the toilet to get sick again. He'd barely managed to finish emptying his stomach before someone was knocking on the door of the little stall.

"Sir, the pilot has turned on the fasten seatbelts sign… I'm going to need you to return to your seat now." Mike closed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths as the flight attendant knocked again. "Sir?"

"Just a minute…" Mike flushed the toilet, washing his hands quickly and trying to rinse out his mouth as the woman continued to knock. "I'm coming!" Mike fumbled with the door, pushing it open after a moment and starting back towards his seat, stumbling slightly as the plane hit some turbulence and catching himself on another passenger's seat.

"Sir, are you alright?" the flight attendant asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Just a little air sickness…" Mike replied, forcing a smile for the woman's benefit.

"Go ahead and sit down, and I'll bring you some water"

"Thank you." Mike made his way back to his seat, feeling a little light-headed from having nothing in his stomach. He closed his eyes as soon as he had his seatbelt buckled again, leaning back in the seat as much as possible.

"Sir? Here's some water… are you feeling better?" Mike opened his eyes as the flight attendant spoke to him again, nodding and taking the bottle from her.

"Thank you… I should be fine now." Mike took a couple of sips of the water as the woman started back towards the back of the plane, trying to relax as he heard the pilot instruct the flight attendants to take their seats. He just had to make it through a few more minutes on the plane, and then he would be able to get out and find Paige.

Mike felt awful as he finally made it off the plane and towards the baggage claim area, where Paige was supposed to be waiting for him. He knew he looked awful as soon as Paige saw him and reacted to his appearance. "What the hell happened to you out there? You look like you haven't eaten anything the whole time you've been gone…"

"Thanks, Paige." Mike sighed, closing his eyes for a moment as they stood there. He didn't even realize he was swaying on his feet until he felt Paige putting her arm around him. "Can we just go home, please? I feel like shit…"

"No…" Paige began. "I'm taking you to a doctor." Mike sighed.

"Paige…"

"You smell like puke and look like you could pass out at any moment. Something is seriously wrong here, Mike, and you need help that we can't give you. I'm sorry…"

"I just want to go home and sleep!" Mike closed his eyes, trying to ignore the fact that several people turned to look at them because of his little outburst. "I just spent five hours on a plane, Paige… I'm exhausted, and I got motion sick in the air and I just need to get some sleep right now."

"I'm just trying to help, Mike…"

"And I get that… but you're not helping right now. Just… give me 24 hours to get back on track, okay? If I'm still not eating tomorrow, I'll go willingly," Mike replied. He closed his eyes, sighing. "Please, Paige… just this once."

"If anything happens tonight, don't think I won't take you straight to the ER," Paige replied, taking Mike's bag out of his hand.

"Thank you," Mike replied, sighing and following her towards the parking garage to the car.

"I'm only agreeing to this because I don't feel like having to physically force you into the ER right now. But we're going to get you something to eat on the way home… and you're going to eat what I order for you and keep it down." Mike nodded as they got into the car, leaning back in the seat and closing his eyes again. He was exhausted, and all he really wanted to do was go to sleep. But he knew that he had to eat to appease Paige if he didn't want to end up in the hospital.

"Mike… Mike, wake up…" Mike groaned as he felt someone shaking his shoulder, forcing his eyes open to see Paige staring at him. "Maybe I should take you to the hospital…"

"Paige…"

"No. Mike, you're not okay here… give me one good reason why I shouldn't back out of this garage and drive you straight to the hospital." Mike unbuckled his seat belt, opening the car door and getting out quickly, trying to make it into the house despite how quickly the whole world started going black on him. "Mike!"


	24. Help

**The Things They Carried**

_Summary:_ The agents of Graceland are masters of keeping secrets. But sometimes, secrets have a way of coming back to haunt you.

_Disclaimer:_ I own nothing; _Graceland_ belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA.

_A/n:_ So, HOLY CRAP, that episode! Last night was absolutely insane… and I'm not sure if it was a good or a bad thing because even after watching it twice I'm still trying to process what happened. And poor Mikey… and poor Johnny… God, I just wanted to hug everyone last night.

* * *

Mike opened his eyes, blinking slowly and trying to figure out why he was staring up at the ceiling of the garage. "Hey… lay still for me, baby." Mike smiled slightly as he saw Charlie kneeling over him.

"Hey, Charlie…" Mike closed his eyes again, relaxing as he felt Charlie holding his good hand. He wasn't really sure what was going on, but somehow her presence made him sure that everything was okay.

"No, baby, I need you to look at me… I need you to stay with me, okay?"

"What happened?"

"You blacked out getting out of the car," Charlie replied. "Paige is getting an ambulance for you right now, and they're going to take you to the hospital to get checked out."

"I'm okay… I just got up too fast…" Mike began, opening his eyes again and starting to try to get up. He only made it into a seated position before the world started spinning on him again, Charlie catching him just in time to keep him from collapsing to the ground for a second time. He let his eyes slide closed for a moment, waiting for the dizziness to pass.

"What were you saying about getting up too fast, Mikey?" Charlie asked, pulling him a little closer and letting him rest his head on her shoulder.

"Shut up…" Mike shivered involuntarily, trying to ignore the way Charlie pressed her lips to his forehead to check for a fever the way his mother used to.

"Just relax, okay? The ambulance will be here soon, and they'll get you all fixed up."

"You suck at lying… I know they're going to take me to the hospital," Mike replied.

"Yeah, well, you need to go. You're shivering, and you blacked out on us for a couple of minutes…" Charlie began.

"And they still aren't here?"

"911 response times suck…" Mike smiled slightly as Paige walked over towards them, still on the phone.

"… He's regained consciousness, but he's still really pale and weak… I don't know if he hit his head or not, I couldn't see…" Mike closed his eyes as Paige talked about him. "… Yeah, someone's waiting on the street… I can hear them coming." Mike opened his eyes at the sound of an ambulance in the distance, swallowing back the nausea that was starting up again. "Mike… how are you feeling?" Paige asked, kneeling down beside them.

"Like shit…" Mike replied. "You had to call an ambulance, didn't you?"

"You were unconscious and unresponsive… and I wasn't about to manhandle you back into that car." Mike nodded slowly as the paramedics finally arrived, unloading their equipment as Paige hung up the phone and stood up to talk to them about what was going on.

"What happened?" one of the men asked, hurrying over with a bag full of medical supplies and equipment.

"He was getting out of the car, and he blacked out. He was unconscious for five or six minutes…" Paige replied. Mike tried to sit up again, but every time he tried to move to sit up things started to get fuzzy. He was forced to accept Charlie's help, leaning against the woman's shoulder and squeezing her hand in the hopes that it would keep him from passing out again.

"Sir, can you tell me your name?" the man asked, pulling out a flashlight and shining it in his eyes to check his pupils.

"Mike Warren." Mike closed his eyes as soon as the man was done.

"Do you know what day of the week it is, Mike?"

"Friday…"

"Good… does anyone know if he hit his head when he blacked out?"

"I don't know… I don't think he did," Paige replied.

"My head doesn't hurt…" Mike added. He didn't like the way the whole world seemed to be spinning, even though his eyes were closed. He had the distinct feeling that if there had been anything in his stomach other than water it would have already ended up all over Charlie's shirt.

"Are you still feeling dizzy or lightheaded?" Mike nodded slowly.

"He's tried to sit up twice and nearly passed out both times," Charlie added, rubbing his back gently as the paramedics checked his pulse and blood pressure. Mike closed his eyes.

"Mike, are you taking any medications or using any other substances we need to know about?" one of the men asked.

"No…"

"You quit taking the painkillers for your arm already?" Paige asked.

"Doesn't hurt that much… they were making me feel sick to my stomach anyway."

"He does have an eating disorder," Charlie added, giving his shoulder another gentle squeeze. "He's been seeing a therapist, but it's been a rough week for him."

"Okay… Mike have you eaten anything today?"

"Not that I kept down…" Mike admitted.

"What about yesterday?" Mike shrugged, keeping his eyes closed. He didn't want to see Paige and Charlie's reaction to that news. "Okay… do you remember when you last ate a real meal?" Mike shook his head. He couldn't really focus enough to think back that far.

"He was eating before he left for Virginia on Tuesday, but he was pale and having dizzy spells then, too," Charlie commented. "I don't think he ate much in Virginia, and he just got back this morning." Mike opened his eyes for a moment as the paramedic tied a rubber tube around his arm to insert an IV, but shut them again quickly to avoid seeing the needle go into his skin. Even once the line was inserted, Mike didn't open his eyes.

"Is he going to be okay?" Paige asked.

"His blood pressure is low, and his pulse is weak and erratic. At the very least, he's dehydrated and we need to take him to the hospital for more tests and a day or two of IV fluids."

Mike opened his eyes for a moment, glancing back towards the car. "Paige… I need my cell phone…"

"I'll bring it to the hospital for you. It's in your bag?"

Mike nodded slowly. "I need Nikki's number…"

"I'll call her, okay? Just relax and let them take care of you," Paige replied. Mike nodded slowly, his eyes closing again as things started to go black.

* * *

"You should have called me if things were going badly." Mike closed his eyes as Nikki sat down in the only chair in his hospital room, watching him. "What happened? What's going on here?"

"I didn't mean for any of this to happen…" Mike replied, sighing. "I didn't realize how bad I'd gotten." He finally opened his eyes, turning to look at Nikki. "I shouldn't have gone to Virginia… I wasn't ready to deal with my family, except for maybe Hollie."

"What happened?"

"Hollie was worried when I first got there… she called Christine to come over and find out what was going on instead of just talking to me about it. She's just really controlling… Christine has more control issues than I do, and she got really upset and…" Mike sighed, shaking his head.

"She tried to take control of your health for you." Mike nodded. "You were eating okay before?" Mike looked away. "Mike… why aren't you talking to me now?" Mike shrugged, closing his eyes. "Look, I'm not going to be angry with you… I'm really worried here, Mike. I need you to start being honest with me about what's going on so that I can help you."

"I was having trouble before… I hadn't really kept anything down that day because I was nervous…"

"What about?"

"I knew things weren't going to go well when I saw the rest of the family… I wasn't doing well to begin with, and to add all of that pressure on top of everything else…" Mike laughed slightly, shaking his head. "It's sad… I can handle the pressure of this job better than I can handle my own family…"

"But your family situation was part of what created this issue, wasn't it?" Mike nodded slowly. "Mike… do you trust me?"

"Yes."

"I think we need to start thinking about what comes next for your treatment. I've been making some calls, and I found an inpatient center that will have a place for you by the end of next week, if you want it." Mike nodded, closing his eyes.

"How much does it cost?"

"Given your current situation, insurance will cover it," Nikki replied.

"How long?"

"As long as it takes. You will have to take a leave of absence from the Bureau…" Mike nodded again. "Mike… is this something you want to do? Because I will tell them you're coming and help you with the paperwork, but you have to be ready to do this."

"I need to do this… I don't see what other choice I have here. I'll end up killing myself if I don't take care of this now." Mike opened his eyes, turning back to look at Nikki again. "What are the chances I'm going to keep my job?"

"You don't need to worry about that right now, okay? There are a lot of things that will go into that decision, and I can't tell you what's going to happen yet. For right now, you need to take care of yourself and focus on getting better."

"Can I get a straight answer for a change?"

"I'm being straight with you here. I don't know what the situation is going to be… a lot is going to depend on how things go for you in treatment, how you're doing when it's time for you to go back to work." Mike sighed, closing his eyes again. "I know you're worried, Mike. It's a legitimate concern, and I'm not trying to diminish that. But I'm not going to lie to you and say everything will be okay."

"Okay." Mike looked up as someone knocked on the door and opened it a moment later. He smiled as the woman brought in a tray full of food, putting it down on the table in front of him. "Thank you."

"You should go ahead and start eating. I'm going to go back to my office and start making the necessary arrangements for you, and I'll bring the paperwork we need to go over this afternoon." Mike nodded, picking up his fork and starting to eat his lunch as the woman left the room.

"You look exhausted." Mike looked up as he heard Paige's voice, smiling at her and putting down his fork. "Eat. I can wait."

"I'm sorry… I should have let you bring me here to begin with," Mike replied.

"You should have gotten Hollie to take you before you left Virginia," Paige commented, sighing. "I can't keep doing this, Mike… I can't keep watching you hurt yourself." Mike closed his eyes. "I've gone through this with my sister… and I don't think I can handle going through this with someone else I care about…"

"I'm leaving Graceland."

"What?"

"Nikki got me a place at a treatment center… I'm leaving next week."

"Oh…" Mike opened his eyes as Paige sat down in the chair, watching him for a moment. "Will you be back?"

"I don't know."


	25. Phone Call

**The Things They Carried**

_Summary:_ The agents of Graceland are masters of keeping secrets. But sometimes, secrets have a way of coming back to haunt you.

_Disclaimer:_ I own nothing; _Graceland_ belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA.

_A/n:_ Guys, I am SO SORRY about how long this has taken. This chapter hasn't come easily, and with the amount of schoolwork I've had to do in the past week I've been too busy to spend much time writing. But I promise I'm not abandoning you – it's just going to take me some time to write chapters from now on, because I have so much other stuff to do!

* * *

Mike glanced down at the phone in his hand, staring at it as if it was something completely foreign. "You really should call your family, Mike… let them know what's going on."

"It's just going to make things worse," Mike replied, putting the phone face down on the table in front of him.

"Why not start with Hollie?" Nikki asked. Mike closed his eyes, sighing. "You're on good terms with her, and from what you said about the trip to Virginia it's clear she cares about you."

"She's just going to tell the rest of the family…"

"This isn't something you should be keeping a secret. They know you're relapsing, Mike, but do they know how bad this is? That you're in the hospital?" Mike shook his head.

"I don't want it… their attention. I don't want to make Hollie worry about me."

"You think she won't worry if you don't tell her what's going on? Mike, she cares about you… I'm sure she's already worrying, if you haven't been in touch with her since you left." Mike sighed. "Mike… listen to me here. You need a support system in place before you go into treatment. This isn't going to work if you're released and don't have anyone to go to when you need help."

"I've gone to them in the past… I've asked them for help. And all it got me was six weeks in a hospital with almost no contact with anyone outside. Do you really think that's going to do me any good, Nikki?" Mike opened his eyes as he heard the sound of Nikki's chair scraping across the floor.

"I have to get back to the office. But I do want you to think about at least contacting Hollie… this doesn't have to be like the last time. Your siblings are all adults, and they can make their own decisions." Mike nodded, sighing and closing his eyes again. He knew Nikki was right, of course; Hollie could do as she pleased, and Mike knew she would more than likely want to be there for him. But he couldn't bring himself to call her.

"You look like someone waiting to be executed… not a guy waiting for his release papers to be signed." Mike opened his eyes slowly, turning to look at Paige as she stood in the doorway. "I thought they were letting you out of here today."

"Yeah…"

"Then why do you look like someone just killed your dog?" Mike sighed as Paige walked over, sitting down in the chair Nikki had just recently vacated. "Seriously, Mike… what's wrong?"

"I just… Nikki thinks I need to call my family."

"And you don't?" Paige asked.

"I can't ask them to be there for me, Paige. They wouldn't do it when I was fifteen… why would they do it now?" Mike watched as the woman sighed, reaching out and taking his hand.

"Mike… they aren't the only family you have, you know…"

Mike smiled slightly. "Is this going to be like one of those saccharine Disney '_ohana_ speeches?"

"I'm not Lilo and you aren't a psychotic blue dog…" Paige began.

"I'm pretty sure Stitch is an alien."

"And I'm pretty sure that you were a teenager when that movie came out… you have a Disney obsession we don't know about, Mike?"

"I have three younger siblings… what do you expect?" Mike squeezed the woman's hand slightly, sighing. "Thank you, Paige."

"I'm being serious, Mike. We're a family, and we've got your back even if your real family doesn't," Paige replied. Mike closed his eyes again. "I know Nikki has your best interests at heart, but that doesn't necessarily mean she knows what's best… if you aren't okay with telling your family, there's nothing that says you have to do it. If they're toxic… maybe it's better to cut ties."

"It's easier said than done," Mike replied. "But she's probably right… I think there are some people I need to call…"

"And I think I need to go get both of us some coffee…" Paige began. Mike started to tell her his preferred drink. "Americano, two sugars and a little skim milk. I know your coffee order, Mike."

"Thank you, Paige." Mike watched as the woman walked out of the room, before turning back to his phone and pulling up his contact list, scrolling through until he found the number he was looking for.

"_Mike! I was starting to worry… why didn't you call to tell me you'd landed?_"

"Things were a little crazy around here when I got back… I got pretty sick on the plane…" Mike began. He closed his eyes. "I'm actually just getting out of the hospital today…"

"_Oh my God… Mike! You should have told me sooner, I would have come out there…_"

"It's fine, Holls. I didn't want to make a big deal out of everything…" Mike began.

"_What was wrong? Do they know?_" Mike closed his eyes.

"Dehydration, among other things. All related to the purging." Mike waited silently for his sister to respond "I know I screwed up, okay? But I'm headed to inpatient at the end of the week. I'm going to get this thing sorted out again, and I'm going to get my life back."

"_Where are you going?_" Hollie asked.

"I don't know yet… someone else is making the arrangements for me."

"_Let me know, okay? As soon as you know._"

"I'll text you the details once I get them."

"_I can still come out there, at least until you go to inpatient…_" Mike smiled slightly, closing his eyes.

"I appreciate the offer… but after last week I think I might be better off just staying away from family for a little while. I know it wasn't you, but… I need some space. Just until I can get some things sorted out in my head," Mike replied.

"_Of course…_" Mike could hear the sadness in the woman's voice.

"It's not that I don't want to see you… I just really need to get my head on straight before I start bringing on the stress of having anyone from the family around…"

"_You don't have to explain, Mike. I get it. Just… don't shut me out, okay? I want to be there for you, even if no one else in the family wants to understand._" Mike couldn't help smiling at Hollie's words.

"Thank you, Hollie. That really means a lot to me."

"_You're going to be okay…_"

"Yeah. I'm going to be okay." Mike sighed as he hung up the phone, staring at the screen for a moment as he tried to work up the courage to make the second phone call he needed to make.

"How did it go?" Mike looked up at the sound of Paige's voice, smiling as she handed over his cup of coffee.

"I think Hollie's probably going to be pissed off at me for a while, but she seemed to understand that I need some more time before I see her…" Mike began.

"And Abbey?" Mike looked up, surprised. "I know you saw her while you were out there. I figured you might have called her, too."

"I was going to…" Mike began.

"I can go wait somewhere for you to be done… I have my phone…"

"I think I'd rather wait, honestly." Mike finally put the phone down, sighing. "I don't want to deal with all of this right now… I'd rather just ignore it for a little while longer…"

"You can't keep ignoring your problems, Mike," Paige replied, sitting down on the side of his bed. Mike closed his eyes as she took his hand, squeezing it. "I know it's painful, Mike. But unless you're going to cut all ties with her, you have to tell Abbey what's happening here."

Mike shook his head, sighing before opening his eyes to look at Paige again. "Weren't you the one saying I was getting too close to her?"

"You're the only one that can make that decision… but I feel better about it now that she's across the country and less of a risk to the house," Paige admitted. "The most important thing for me is that you don't keep doing this… that you stop hurting yourself."

"I don't get you sometimes…" Mike began. He looked over at the woman, squeezing her hand. "It feels like you go back and forth over whether or not you want to deal with this… sometimes you're super supportive and helpful, and other times it feels like you don't know if you even want to be involved in this whole situation…"

Mike could see the hurt in Paige's eyes. "I know… it's not easy for me to watch you go through this, after what happened with my sister. I want to be here for you, but at the same time it hurts to think that the same thing might happen to you." Mike watched as she sighed, shaking her head. "You're going to be okay. I know that you're a smart guy, that you're going to beat this. But I still just see Jamie and what she went through."

"Come here…" Mike reached out towards the woman, motioning for her to sit down next to him on the bed. He put his arm around her, giving her a hug. "It's all going to be okay. I'm going to beat this."

"I know you are. You're too fucking hard-headed not to." Mike couldn't help laughing.

"You're probably right about that." Mike gently squeezed the woman's shoulders. "You'd think they'd be trying to get me out of here a little faster… they said they were releasing me hours ago, but I still haven't seen the paperwork…"

"Is this a hint that you want me to try to hurry them up?" Paige asked. Mike shrugged, smiling. "I'll go find out what the hold up is. Drink your coffee."


	26. Packing

**The Things They Carried**

_Summary:_ The agents of Graceland are masters of keeping secrets. But sometimes, secrets have a way of coming back to haunt you.

_Disclaimer:_ I own nothing; _Graceland_ belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA.

_A/n:_ So this past week's episode… WHAT?! LOL… I'm seriously freaking out about the season finale on Thursday now. I'm dreading the season ending, especially given the fact that we don't know for sure whether or not we're getting another season yet. Oh, and knowing that Charlie is in danger… yeah, that's not helping.

Anyways, I hope you all enjoy the new chapter!

* * *

Mike stared down at his suitcase, trying to figure out how he was going to pack all of his things in the one small bag he'd brought to Graceland. There were some things he couldn't take with him, of course – guns definitely weren't allowed at rehab, nor were the prescription painkillers he'd been given for his injuries now that he no longer needed them.

"Are you doing okay?" Mike looked up at the sound of Paige's voice from the door of his room.

"Yeah. Just trying to figure out how I'm going to move all this stuff…" Mike began.

"You don't have to take all of it, you know. We have the space to store some of it." Mike shook his head. "Hey… you're going to come back."

"I have to turn in my gun this afternoon, Paige," Mike replied. "After today, I may not even have a job to come back to…"

"You don't know that."

"I have to meet with Clarke. It's not looking good…"

"Mike, you're a good agent… you saved the Bello case. And they can't fire you over a mental illness…" Paige began.

"They can if it makes it impossible for me to do my job. And given how things have been going, it's arguable whether or not I'm capable of staying undercover…"

"So they set you up as a handler or in an investigative unit somewhere else… there are plenty of other jobs that you trained for at Quantico that you could still do." Mike closed his eyes. "They won't fire you, Mike…"

"Can you really promise me that, Paige?" Mike asked, turning to look at her again. "Can you really sit there and tell me that everything is going to be alright when there are so many reasons this _won't_ work out…"

"Because I believe that Clarke is intelligent enough to see that you are more than capable of doing this job, and that you just need some time to take care of your health." Mike sighed, sitting down on the foot of the bed.

"What if that isn't enough? There are plenty of good agents out there… there's always someone coming out at the top of their class from Quantico."

"But they don't bring down portions of major crime families their first day on the job… they don't break into major heroin distribution rings their first month, or bring down the big guns."

"I was in the right place at the right time…" Mike began.

"And you nearly got yourself killed more than once, but you saved both of those cases by thinking on your feet."

"Technically, the Vzakonye thing only ended that way because Briggs showed up to save me."

"But you were the one that figured out how to keep Donnie from shooting you," Paige replied.

"You weren't even there, Paige…"

"I've heard the story. And it's not like I haven't seen you work before. You _are_ a good agent," Paige replied.

"I nearly compromised a case because I couldn't stop myself from purging, Paige… I let things get too far out of control. There was no plan B to fall back on when things went too far…"

"Your life and your job are two separate things, Mike," Paige interrupted.

"My job _is_ my life! I don't go home and put it away, Paige… it follows me. It follows _all_ of us, every day, whether we like it or not. I live in a house full of federal agents. I can't bring a girl home or even have a real relationship with anyone. I can't even tell my family the truth about what I do, and I'm going to have to lie to everyone in this fucking rehab place, and…" Mike closed his eyes, sighing and shaking his head. "I don't know why I thought this was a good idea."

"Because you need to get help. Because this is the best thing you can do for yourself right now." Mike turned to look at the woman as she sat down next to him, putting an arm around his shoulders. "The lies suck. And maybe this isn't the best place for you, if you can't deal with knowing that you have to lie all the time. But you have to figure that out, and you have to make that decision for yourself. And maybe going away for a while is the best way for you to do that." Mike shook his head for a moment. "Mike… what is stressing you out so much? Talk to me here…"

"I just keep thinking about how badly I _need_ to be able to tell someone the truth about what's going on in my head, and I _can't_."

"You can tell me, Mike," Paige replied.

"No, I can't."

"Why not, Mike? Why do you think you can't tell me the truth?" Mike could hear that Paige was getting annoyed with him, and he sighed.

"Because I was sent to Graceland to investigate someone living in the house." Mike glanced over at the woman, watching as she mulled over his words.

"You're a rat?" Paige asked. Mike closed his eyes again.

"I didn't find anything. And I don't think there's anything there _to_ find."

"That doesn't mean you aren't a rat, Mike… who were you investigating?" Paige asked. Mike didn't answer. "What have you told them?"

"Nothing that would get anyone in trouble," Mike replied. "It was Briggs, okay? They think he's… they think he's involved in some kind of illegal activity, and that he's making money on the side somehow. A lot of money."

"What kind of illegal activity?" Paige asked.

"Skimming heroin. Stealing money during busts. I don't really know the whole story of why they suspect him, because no one has ever given me much of anything to go on…" Mike replied. "All I know is that I've got nothing on him… and I don't think there's anything here _to_ find."

"And you've told them that?"

"I've been a little preoccupied with what's been going on, lately… the eating disorder and everything…" Mike replied. "They haven't really been asking a lot of questions about the investigation, honestly. They can't really have an investigation when the agent responsible is barely hanging on to his own sanity…"

"Are you going to continue the investigation when you come back?" Paige asked. Mike shrugged.

"I don't see a point. Which is part of why I'm not sure that I'll _be_ coming back… if there was anything there, I did a shitty job of looking for it. And I haven't exactly proven their suspicions wrong… so I don't really know what's going to happen now. I don't know if I want to know…"

Mike pulled away from Paige, sighing and walking over to his dresser to start pulling out the clothing he still needed to pack. He suddenly didn't want to talk about any of it, but he also didn't want to be rude to the woman. "Mike…"

"I just need to get this done, Paige… can we talk later?"

"I'm trying to help," Paige replied. Mike closed his eyes, leaning over against the chest.

"I get that… but Paige, I don't know how to ask you to help me. I don't know what I need from you, or how you could possibly help me with this…" Mike jerked away as he felt Paige putting a hand on his shoulder. "Just go away for a while, okay? I need to be alone."

* * *

Mike stared down at the locked box that contained his gun, wondering what was going to happen when Clarke finally decided to come into the conference room.

"What's going on, Agent Warren?" Mike closed his eyes at the frustration that was obvious in Clarke's voice.

"Nikki hasn't told you anything?" Mike asked.

"I'm asking you for the details. She's bound by confidentiality not to discuss what you tell her, unless she thinks that someone is in danger. So I need you to tell me the whole truth about what's going on here," Clarke replied. Mike closed his eyes as the man sat down on the opposite end of the table. "Starting now."

Mike sat up a little straighter, sighing. "I have an eating disorder. I was in recovery for a long time, but things got bad recently and I need to go get help before this gets out of control again."

"You're mentally ill?"

"If you want to be that technical about it, yes," Mike replied, biting down on his bottom lip.

"And the Briggs investigation?"

"I have nothing," Mike replied. "I haven't been able to find anything to incriminate Paul Briggs… and I've been trying my best."

"Have you really?" Clarke asked. Mike looked up at the man, leaning back in his chair for a moment.

"I have no reason to lie to you, Agent Clarke. I've done everything I can based on the information Juan has given me. If there was something to find, I would have found it…"

"How long will you be gone?" Clarke asked. For a moment, Mike wondered if the man was actually going to drop the subject.

"I don't know. A month, at least."

"When you return, you will continue your investigation until I'm satisfied you've exhausted every possible lead," Clarke replied. Mike nodded slowly. "You can do that, can't you?"

"Yes, sir."

"You have six weeks."

"You can't put a time limit on…" Mike began.

"Six weeks, Agent Warren." Mike sighed as the man got up, leaving the room without giving Mike a chance to explain.


	27. Questions

**The Things They Carried**

_Summary:_ The agents of Graceland are masters of keeping secrets. But sometimes, secrets have a way of coming back to haunt you.

_Disclaimer:_ I own nothing; _Graceland_ belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA.

_A/n:_ So I know this is a short chapter, but I'm seriously busy right now between student teaching and all of the courses I'm taking. Tomorrow is my first day teaching a full lesson, which is a little scary, and I have a paper due on Tuesday that I haven't finished yet, so I wanted to get this chapter posted and off my mind so that I can focus! Hopefully I'll have another chapter for you some time next weekend depending on my course load this week!

* * *

It felt more like a last meal than a celebration of the fact that Mike would be coming back to Graceland. "You need to eat, baby… we don't want a repeat of what happened the last time you flew," Charlie commented, putting a hand on his shoulder. "C'mon… this is a celebration. You're coming back."

"Only if I can get my shit together in six weeks," Mike replied, shaking his head. "If I don't manage that, I'm out of a job."

"Clarke's bullshitting you with that, man." Mike looked over at DJ, who had been quietly nursing his beer while he ate without really participating in the conversation. "You're too good for them to get rid of you like that. And they can't legally fire you for that."

"That may be, but I wouldn't put it past him to try…" Mike replied, sighing. He put down his fork, shaking his head. "Clarke could probably find a million reasons to fire me, if he really wanted to."

"You haven't done anything wrong," Charlie replied. Mike shook his head.

"You have no idea, Charlie…" Mike shook his head, leaning forward and resting his head against his good hand. "I think I'm just going to go to bed… I have to be up early…"

"Mikey…"

"I'm tired, Charlie," Mike replied, shrugging her off as he stood up. "I just need to be alone for a while."

"You should enjoy this, Mikey… we're celebrating the fact that you're coming back in a couple of months…"

"Right…" Mike closed his eyes.

"Don't even think about that bullshit Clarke tried to pull… you aren't going to lose your job in six weeks or whatever the hell he told you," Charlie whispered, leaning in to him. "He's bluffing."

"He seemed pretty damn serious to me." Mike leaned back in his seat, glancing around at the rest of the agents sitting at the table. They were doing their best to avoid looking at Mike and Charlie, but Mike knew they were all listening to the conversation. Mike sighed, closing his eyes again. "I'm just really not in the mood to celebrate anything right now, okay? I don't think there's much worth celebrating."

Mike stood up quickly, making his way up the stairs and to his bedroom without really caring that the rest of the house was probably watching him like he was crazy. He just really couldn't deal with being surrounded by them right now; Mike was tired, and he desperately needed to be alone for a little while to get his head on straight again.

"What the hell was that, Mike?" He didn't even need to turn back towards the door to know it was Paige talking.

"I just need some time alone," he replied, sitting down on the side of his bed and closing his eyes.

"You need to eat."

"And I will… I just really need to be alone right now, Paige." Mike set his jaw as he heard the woman walking over to him. "Seriously, Paige… leave me alone. Just give me twenty fucking minutes of peace…"

"Is it about Briggs?" Mike closed his eyes, sighing.

"Shut the door." Mike waited until he heard the door close, before turning back towards the woman and shaking his head. "Clarke told me I have to finish the investigation when I come back. I'm not allowed to drop it until he and Juan are convinced I've exhausted every possible lead. And I have six weeks to get my ass back here and get back to work."

"But there's nothing to find…" Paige began. Mike sighed.

"That's what I thought, too… but if they're still convinced, maybe there's something I missed…" Mike replied. He sighed. "It's making me question whether or not I'm even capable of doing this job… if I can't even find whatever the hell it is Juan and Clarke are convinced is there."

"They're wasting your time with this investigation. If Briggs was dirty, you would have figured it out by now…" Mike closed his eyes, sighing and shaking his head. "Mike, you _are_ a good agent."

"I've fucked up a hell of a lot since I got here, Paige."

"You're a rookie. Everyone fucks up when they're new. Hell, we all still fuck up on a regular basis… but you've also done a lot of good work. And I'm starting to think you need to be asking more questions about what you're supposed to be looking for, because either this is all a huge mistake or the Bureau has more on Briggs than they've told you." Mike glanced up at her.

"You think so?"

"There's something suspicious going on here… something isn't right about all of this." Mike nodded, sighing. "It sounds like you have a lot of work to do when you get back."

"I don't know if I can do this, Paige. I don't know if I can keep up the pretense when I get back, not after admitting so much of what I've been hiding already." Mike was surprised when Paige smiled at him, shaking her head.

"It never ceases to amaze me how you manage to pull this off, even though you're so uncomfortable with all of the lies."

"What choice do I have?" Mike asked, shrugging.

"You could always threaten to quit…" Mike scoffed. "Mike, you're exactly the type of agent the FBI wants. You got an insane score on your practicals, and even though that first job didn't go perfectly you still managed to make it work and take down the bad guys. You make it work, even when things are going to shit. They aren't going to let someone like you go over something like this…"

"This is the fast-track to what I want…" Mike began.

"But is getting what you think you want worth all of the stress and pain it's causing you, Mike?" Mike closed his eyes, sighing. "I know you want to move up and be at the top of the FBI food chain, but is the fast-track really worth nearly losing yourself? Or worth making yourself so sick you might die?"

"I'm not going to kill myself…"

"Being this stressed out by this investigation isn't going to help you get better, Mike. If anything, it's going to make it harder for you to get better. You're already stressed out by Clarke's threat to your job, and they're using this promise of promotion to force you to keep working on an investigation you don't believe in…"

"And it's going to be almost impossible for me to get out of this investigation now." Mike could hear the woman sigh.

"There has to be a way out."

"Not without getting myself into trouble," Mike replied. "I can't purposely screw up the case or refuse to follow orders."

"Then you need to start asking more questions. And demanding answers. They can't expect you to investigate someone while they're withholding vital information from you. And if they aren't withholding information…"

"Someone has it out for Briggs." Mike swallowed hard. "God… this is seriously fucked up."

"I shouldn't have even brought it up…" Paige began. "Now you're going to spend the next six weeks or however long it is worrying about what's going on here, instead of worrying about getting better."

"If anything happens, you have to call me," Mike replied.

"Mike…"

"I'll tell them you're my sister. But seriously, Paige… if anything happens that might affect my investigation, I have to know about it. Even if I'm not here and I'm not supposed to be working, I need to know…"

"You can't make yourself sick worrying about an investigation you don't even believe in, Mike."

"Paige… I'm pretty sure this investigation is the only reason I'm going to have a job to come back to. And if I fuck this up, who knows if I'll get to keep it…" Mike closed his eyes. "I'm stuck, Paige. I don't think there's anything I can do to fix this, except maybe quit…"

"You are _not_ quitting the FBI, Mike… this is your dream job."

"Except lately, it's been more of a nightmare…"


	28. Missing

**The Things They Carried**

_Summary:_ The agents of Graceland are masters of keeping secrets. But sometimes, secrets have a way of coming back to haunt you.

_Disclaimer:_ I own nothing; _Graceland_ belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA.

_A/n:_ So… of course, something HAS to go wrong. Don't hate me, guys… I have a plan! But you're going to have to wait a bit to find out what it is, because school. So anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

* * *

It had been three weeks of hell, and Mike was more than ready to see a familiar face. So as soon as Paige called asking to see him, Mike had been more than happy to tell her she could come down.

"Waiting for someone?" Mike smiled, standing up to give Paige a hug.

"God, I've missed you…" Mike couldn't help holding her a little too long. He knew that this was probably going to be his only chance to see her until he left. "What's going on?"

"Can we talk in private?" Paige asked as he pulled away from their hug. Mike nodded, walking over to the desk and filling out the form he needed to sign out of the building.

Mike decided it was probably best not to ask any questions until they were outside, but Paige didn't wait for him to ask any questions.

"How are you, Mike?"

"Worried… I know you didn't drive all the way out here and ask me to talk in private just to make sure I'm okay," Mike replied, leading her away from the building towards a secluded bench. "What's going on?"

"Briggs has gone missing." Mike stopped, turning to look at the woman and raising an eyebrow.

"What do you mean, Briggs has gone missing?"

"He left Graceland five days ago, and no one has been able to get in contact with him since. We've all tried calling him at least a dozen times…" Mike sighed, closing his eyes. "I wouldn't even be bothering you with this if it wasn't for your investigation… but we're seriously getting scared."

"That's not like Briggs…" Mike began. Mike shook his head. "Have they called a BOLO?"

"Clarke put it out after forty-eight hours of no contact with no reason. You didn't get it?"

"I don't have good cell service out here. And I'm not exactly in a position to do anything about it…" Mike replied, sighing. He pulled out his cell, finding Briggs' number and calling it quickly. Not surprisingly, Mike found himself being sent directly to voicemail. "Briggs, it's Mike… Paige just told me what's going on. Call someone, please…"

"No luck for you, either." Mike shook his head. "Shit. I thought for sure he would respond if you called him"

"Why would you think that?"

"Because clearly, if we're asking you to call him we're really worried," Paige replied. "Briggs knows we wouldn't bother you with this while you're trying to get better."

"Did anything happen before he left?" Mike watched as Paige looked around, seemingly uncomfortable. "Paige… what happened? Did Briggs find out something about my investigation?"

"Briggs came home the night before really messed up. Charlie put him to bed, and we all just assumed he was drunk. But the next morning he was just gone…" Paige began. "Charlie didn't report it officially, but Briggs wasn't drunk. She was pretty sure he was high. Probably on heroin."

"Briggs? On heroin?" Mike shook his head, sighing. "That doesn't make any sense, Paige. He's never been like that…"

"Charlie didn't report it because she didn't want to believe it, either," Paige replied. "None of us want to. But there was something seriously off with how he was behaving that night."

"What does the Bureau know?"

"That Briggs is missing. That the last time anyone saw him or his jeep, he was getting gas at a station about an hour north of Graceland. That he was drunk the night before he disappeared."

"Why would he just disappear, Paige?"

"I don't know. That's why I came to you." Mike nodded, scrolling through his phone again. "Mike… if you tell anyone Briggs was high, it ends his career."

"What if it has something to do with his disappearance, Paige?"

"Of course it has something to do with his disappearance, Mike! He wouldn't leave without telling anyone for no reason."

"What else do you want me to do, Paige?! What do you expect of me?!"

"You're the only person who can understand the way he thinks, Mike. You're like Briggs was when he first joined the Bureau…" Mike sat down on the bench, shaking his head.

"I don't understand him, Paige… I don't have anything on him, even after all of these weeks of investigating. If I knew how his mind worked, I would have found something at Graceland by now." Mike buried his face in his hands. "I don't think I can help you, Paige. I don't think I can find him."

"You're the only one who can."

* * *

Mike couldn't stop himself from pacing around his room, even though he knew he wasn't supposed to. It wasn't until his phone rang that Michael stopped, biting down on his bottom lip as he recognized Juan's phone number. "Hello?"

"_Mike. I suppose you've heard about Agent Briggs?_"

"Paige Arkin told me what was going on," Mike admitted, sitting down on the end of his bed. "What concerns me is the fact that he's been missing for five days and no one bothered to say a word to me until Paige showed up this morning."

"_The agents of Graceland said they wouldn't contact you,_" Juan replied.

"And yet you assumed I knew that he's missing."

"_There is a BOLO out… I assumed you'd received it. We were pretty shocked when you didn't check in after a couple of days._"

"Is there anything new? Any new sightings?" Mike asked.

"_Nothing. No surveillance camera shots, no sightings of his car, nothing._" Mike nodded, sighing. "_Mike, we need someone focusing on this case right now. You're the only agent available that knows Briggs well enough to potentially figure this out…_"

"Juan, I'm in Arizona. It's only been three weeks…"

"_This is serious…_" Mike closed his eyes, sighing. "_It's been five days… either he thinks he's been caught doing something, or he's in some kind of danger here…_"

"I get that, Juan."

"_But you aren't willing to help us find Paul Briggs_."

"Juan, I have no idea where to even start looking for him! And in case you've forgotten, I'm on medical leave… I can't just leave and come back to California right now like nothing's wrong." Mike closed his eyes. "I want to help you find him, Juan… but I've got other issues to worry about."

"_I could order you to come back._"

"Juan… I'm not stable enough to leave. I'm still struggling with all of this… even if I did come back, I wouldn't be of any use to you." Mike was starting to feel sick, worrying about what was going to happen. "Juan, if I was able to leave right now and come look for Briggs, I would do it in a heartbeat. But I can't do that right now."

Mike could hear Juan sigh loudly. "_Mike, this is serious_."

"You think I don't realize that, Juan? I've been living with the guy for months… I'm concerned, too. But I'm not going to be able to track him down. Not in this kind of shape."

"_We'll be in touch, Mike._" Mike closed his eyes, sighing as Juan hung up the phone before dialing Paige's number.

"_Mike? Is something wrong?_"

"How far away are you right now?"

"_I'm at the airport, waiting for a flight back to Graceland…_"

"If I can get a flight later today, can you pick me up at the airport?"

"_Mike… you aren't going to leave treatment because of this…_"

"I just got a call from Juan. The Bureau wants me to investigate Briggs' disappearance, and I'm starting to think I'm not being given a choice in the matter." Mike got up, walking over to his closet and pulling out his backpack to start packing.

"_They can't really expect you to do this… Mike, you're sick. And you're only going to make yourself worse if you leave treatment now…_"

"I know. But what can I do now, Paige?"

"_What did Juan say?_"

"That we'd be in touch."

"_Shit._"

"Yeah." Mike sighed. "Will you just pick me up, please?"

"_Mike… just wait, okay? Until someone tells you that you have to come back to Graceland and work on this. I don't want you to come back until you know for sure that they're going to make you take this investigation._"

"Paige…"

"_No… you aren't thinking clearly here. Mike, you aren't doing well enough to leave treatment yet. You said you weren't doing all that well when we talked earlier. A few hours isn't going to make a big enough difference…_"

"Paige, I don't know what else to do here." Mike looked around the room, more than a little confused about what to do next. "They're going to call me back, and they're going to insist that I come investigate his disappearance. I know it's coming, Paige. It's just a matter of time."

"_You can refuse this assignment, Mike. I know we want to find Briggs, but you are in no position to be investigating anything right now._"

"I know, but…"

"_There are no buts here, Mike… you have to stop this. They clearly don't understand what they're asking of you here…_" Mike sat down on the bed next to his bag, closing his eyes. "_You need this time off work. And you don't need that kind of stress on top of everything else._"

"I know that, Paige."

"_Don't even think about giving me any of that crap about protecting your job, okay? They can't fire you for being unable to do your job because of an illness… you know this as well as I do, and you don't need to worry about all of this…_"

"Even if I'm not worrying about my job, I'm not going to quit worrying about Briggs… this isn't just some random person that's gone missing, Paige. He's my training officer. I can't just ignore this…" Mike replied. He looked up as someone knocked on the door, forcing a smile and waving at the nurse as she checked off that he was on property.

"_I'm not asking you to ignore this. I'm just asking you to hold off until we know what's going on._"


	29. Homecoming

**The Things They Carried**

_Summary:_ The agents of Graceland are masters of keeping secrets. But sometimes, secrets have a way of coming back to haunt you.

_Disclaimer:_ I own nothing; _Graceland_ belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA.

_A/n:_ I am SOO sorry for leaving you guys hanging this long! I've had some computer issues that prevented me from writing for a while, which are thankfully finally resolved. Oh, and I got a brand new operating system for my computer yesterday, which is REALLY cool but has a little bit of a learning curve built into it. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this chapter now that I can actually write it!

* * *

Mike couldn't help being nervous as the plane started to land; he hadn't really told anyone in the house he was coming back from Arizona earlier than planned, and he wasn't sure what to expect when he arrived. Honestly, he wasn't really sure how he was getting from the airport back to Graceland; he would just have to figure things out as he went along.

"Not a fan of flying, huh?" Mike glanced at the woman sitting next to him, forcing a smile.

"No, not really," Mike lied. The last thing he really wanted was a bunch of questions.

"You'll get used to it." Mike nodded, closing his eyes as the plane's back wheels touched down on the runway. He couldn't help staring out the window as the plane taxied to the gate, turning on his phone and sighing when it almost immediately indicated he had a voicemail. He knew it wasn't a good thing before he even pressed the button listen to it.

"_I swear to God, Mike… I just got a phone call saying you'd left treatment. This isn't okay… call me when you get this_." Mike closed his eyes at the sound of Paige's voice on the recording, sighing. He didn't even really get a chance to do anything before his phone was ringing again, this time telling him that Paige was trying to call him at that exact moment.

"Paige…"

"_Where the hell are you, Mike? Why haven't you returned my call?_"

"I was just about to call you… we just landed."

"_Where?_"

"I'm coming back to the house…" Mike began.

"_No, you're not… you're going to get another ticket and go straight back to Arizona._"

"I can't. I got the call this morning… I'm in this, whether we like it or not."

"_Clarke can't do that…_"

"He can do whatever the hell he wants, Paige… I'm stuck."

"_You could go above his head…_"

"Look, Paige, I'm still on the plane… we'll talk when I get back to the house, okay? We're about to pull up to the gate, and I need to get moving."

"_How are you getting here?_"

"I don't know… Clarke just told me he'd arranged everything."

"_And you trust him?_"

"What choice do I have here, Paige?" Mike watched as the rest of the passengers started to get their belongings together and exit the plane. "Look… I really have to go. But I'll talk to you as soon as I get back to the house, okay?"

"_This conversation isn't over, Mike_."

"I know." Mike hung up the phone, getting up and grabbing his backpack and suitcase before joining the line to get off the plane.

By the time Mike made it to baggage claim, he was starting to wonder if Clarke really had figured everything out for him. He didn't see any familiar faces waiting for him, and he didn't have any other messages letting him know what the plan was. Mike was just about to suck it up and go for a rental car when he noticed Juan standing by the door, clearly waiting for him.

"I really don't appreciate the Bureau forcing me to cut my leave short…"

"I don't have any control over this either, Mike. I'm just following orders, same as you," Juan replied. Mike sighed, following him out towards the parking garage and putting his bags in the back seat.

"I'm assuming you aren't taking me back to the house."

"Someone else will be taking you to Graceland later. For now, we're going to headquarters so that you can be briefed on what we know and start your investigation into Briggs' disappearance." Mike sighed.

"I need to eat…"

"We'll figure something out."

"Juan… I'm still underweight. I'm not in control of this…" Mike began. "Look, the only reason I even came back for this is because you told me it would be the end of my career if I didn't."

"Where are your priorities, Mike?" Juan asked. Mike rolled his eyes.

"Are you seriously asking me that question, Juan? Do you know anything about eating disorders?" Mike turned to stare out the window, not sure he really wanted to hear the man's answer. "So are you even going to bother telling me what you know about Briggs' disappearance, or do I have to get my information in bits and pieces like the other Briggs investigation I'm supposed to be working on?"

"We'll talk about the investigation once we get to headquarters."

The rest of the ride was silent, until they pulled into the parking lot of the FBI building. Mike got out of the car, grabbing his stuff and heading up the stairs without waiting for Juan.

"Mike? What the hell are you doing here?" Mike turned around at the sound of Johnny's voice. The Hispanic man clearly wasn't happy to see him, but Mike did his best to ignore the evident anger. "You're supposed to be in Arizona… when the hell did you get back?"

"About an hour ago." Mike shifted uncomfortably as Johnny stared at him.

"This ain't cool, man… you shouldn't be here."

"Yeah, I know. Try telling that to the higher ups," Mike replied. He sighed as Juan finally caught up with him, shaking his head. "I've got to go, Johnny. We'll talk later, when I get back to the house." Mike followed Juan into the building, into a conference room that didn't have any windows and only had one door.

"Go ahead and have a seat. Agent Clarke won't be long." Mike took off his backpack, setting it down in an empty chair.

"Can I at least get something to eat from the vending machine while I wait?" Mike asked. He knew it wasn't the best option, but it seemed as though that was all he had. And after everything that had happened, the last thing Mike needed was to miss a meal completely.

"He'll be here before you could get back…"

"I have to eat, Juan."

"You need to be briefed on Paul Briggs' disappearance…"

"What does the Bureau have that I don't already know? He was intoxicated and pissed off the night before he disappeared. The last time anyone spotted him, he was getting gas an hour north of Graceland. He's been missing a week now."

"You still need to talk to Clarke about what the plan is going forward. If he has any additional information, I'm sure he'll give it to you." Mike closed his eyes, sighing as Juan started to leave the room.

"You know, I thought you actually gave a shit, Juan." Mike couldn't help himself; once the words started coming, he had a feeling he wouldn't be able to stop them. But he was so upset with the whole situation, he just didn't care. "You did such a good job of acting like I was more than just some pawn in this ridiculous game to catch Briggs doing something illegal. Like I actually meant something to the Bureau. But now you're just ignoring the fact that I'm too sick to be doing this…"

"It isn't about you, Mike. I wasn't the one who made the decision to pull you back into the field early… I have no control over any of this!"

"Then be honest with me here. Why am _I_ the only person who can do this assignment? I haven't been able to find anything on Paul Briggs thus far, so why do they think that I'm the only one who can find him?" Mike asked.

"Because Paul Briggs trusts you."

"Briggs doesn't trust anyone," Mike replied, shaking his head. "He may like me… we may get along as roommates. But that doesn't mean he trusts me."

"Then how about the fact that we know you know Briggs was high the night before he left Graceland?" Mike couldn't stop his shoulders from stiffening at the sound of Clarke's voice coming from the doorway.

"If you know he was high, why are we looking for him? His career would be over if you had any proof that he was using illegal drugs," Mike replied, turning to face the man.

"Because we can't prove it. No one saw him shoot up, and thanks to his caseload he would have reason to purchase small amounts while being followed without arousing suspicion. But the last buy he made was never logged into evidence to be disposed of properly… and we can't prove whether he took it or whether he disappeared before he had a chance to properly hand it over." Mike sighed, shaking his head.

"What does this have to do with me, Agent Clarke?"

"You can prove what happened, one way or another."

"It's been a week… any evidence would be gone by now. And even if I manage to find Briggs, he wouldn't tell me if he was high that night instead of drunk. He may not know that I'm investigating him, but I guarantee you he doesn't trust me enough to tell me he's doing anything against the rules," Mike replied.

"He breaks the rules all the time, Agent Warren. You know that as well as I do," Clarke replied.

"He gets results… and he doesn't break rules that actually matter. His methods are less than ideal, but Paul Briggs always has a plan and he knows what he's doing." Mike watched as Clarke walked over to the table, dropping a handful of case files in front of an empty chair.

"Agent Warren, you have no idea what Paul Briggs has done."


	30. The Job

**The Things They Carried**

_Summary:_ The agents of Graceland are masters of keeping secrets. But sometimes, secrets have a way of coming back to haunt you.

_Disclaimer:_ I own nothing; _Graceland_ belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA.

_A/n:_ So new chapter… yay! I really should have been doing homework instead of writing this, but I really wanted to write this (partially in hopes that seeing something update might inspire some other writers to update their stories!). Hope you all enjoy!

* * *

"You have to be kidding me…" Mike closed his eyes, pushing away the case files he'd spent the past hour reading. "This doesn't sound like Paul Briggs…"

"Paul Briggs was involved in each of these cases… he had the means and the access…"

"But if you could prove any of it, you would have arrested him long before I graduated from Quantico, Agent Clarke. If this is what I was supposed to be looking for, why wasn't I ever given any of this information?"

"You're seeing it now," Clarke replied. Mike looked up, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

"Right… now that he's missing. It isn't going to do me much good if I can't actually find him out there…"

"You'll find him, Agent Warren." Mike reached up to rub at his temples as his stomach started to growl. "This is your assignment. And it will be your assignment until Paul Briggs is found, dead or alive."

Mike had a bad feeling in his stomach as Juan drove him back to Graceland, dropping him off at the front door before handing over the locked gun safe containing Mike's weapon. "You have your keys?"

"Of course," Mike replied.

"You'll need to check in with us regularly, and we expect full reports on what's happening…"

"I know the drill, Juan. I've been investigating Briggs for months."

"And you haven't been doing a very good job of it thus far, Mike. This is your job… as the top of your class, we expected better…" Juan began.

"I'm not going to falsify anything just to make your case against Paul Briggs. Everything we have so far is circumstantial."

"It's one hell of a circumstance…"

"But that's all it is so far… you have no proof."

"I'm not having this conversation with you, Agent Warren. You know what we expect." Mike got out of the car, letting himself into the house and immediately heading up to his bedroom to put his things away.

"I thought Paige and Johnny were joking when they said you were back…" Mike sighed, turning around and sitting down on the foot of his bed as Charlie leaned against the doorframe.

"I thought it was a bad joke when I got the call, too… but I wasn't really given a choice about coming back…" Mike watched a Charlie crossed his arms, shaking her head.

"This isn't right."

"This is the only choice I have right now, Charlie," Mike replied. "I have to find Briggs. But I have no idea how I'm going to do that, when I have no real clues and the trail has been cold for a week…"

"What are you going to do?" Mike shook his head, closing his eyes.

"If it wouldn't take me out of the field permanently, I'd lie and tell Nikki I wanted to eat my gun so that I could get out of this…" Mike looked up as Charlie stood up quickly. "I don't really want to kill myself, Charlie… I'm not that fucked up."

"You shouldn't even joke like that…"

Mike sighed. "I'm not ready for this, Charlie. I don't think I can go out there and do this right now… but if I refuse, my career is over. And right now I'm not sure what's worse, because this job is everything I've ever wanted…"

"Mike… _this_ wasn't the job you wanted. You wanted to be in DC, where you could have actually used the fact that you're a Federal agent as a pick-up line…" Mike couldn't help smiling slightly at the reference to one of his early conversations with Paige and Johnny. "There has to be _some_ way to get you out of this, so that you can go back and get the help you need."

"I'd have to quit. And I don't know that I can do that without getting to the point where I actually might do something as stupid as eating my gun."

"You have to turn in your weapon…" Charlie began.

"The gun in this lock box isn't the only one I have, Charlie," Mike replied. "My grandfather gave me a revolver when I was sixteen. I didn't bring it here, but I could get it pretty easily if I wanted to…" Mike closed his eyes. "I don't even know why I'm telling you this."

"Because you don't want to actually hurt yourself. Because you know that if things get that bad and I know, I'll stop you from doing something you would regret." Mike nodded. "I'm going to talk to Gerry…"

"This goes over his head. I don't think he can do anything…"

"Who's in charge of this case?" Charlie asked.

"Clarke."

"So we'll go over his head, then…" Mike shook his head, sighing. "Seriously, Mike… if we have to call someone in DC, we'll do it."

"I'm not sure if that would even get me out of this without sacrificing my career."

"Mike, what's more important here? Your career or your health?"

* * *

Mike looked up as Paige entered his room without knocking, closing the door behind her and sitting down on the side of his bed so that they were facing each other as he sat at his desk, working on his computer. "What can I do to get you to go back to treatment?"

"Paige…"

"You can't really be doing this, Mike… I saw where you were before you left the center, and you aren't ready to be out in the real world. You're going to make yourself worse…"

"I don't think I have a choice here, Paige," Mike replied.

"We _always_ have a choice. You can say no…"

"And where does that put me, really? Homeless, jobless, and just as sick as ever…" Mike closed his eyes, sighing and closing his laptop.

"You can't be fired for needing treatment for a mental illness, Mike… you're not okay, and anyone can see that. Have you even eaten since you go t back from Arizona?"

"It's not for a lack of trying…" Mike leaned back in his chair as he waited for Paige to say something, opening his eyes and watching her.

"Mike… you have to get out of this…"

"You think I don't know that?" Mike shook his head, regretting snapping at her before the words were even fully out of his mouth. "Look… I get it, okay? But I can't just leave this behind, Paige… all I've ever wanted is to be an FBI agent. I've worked my ass off for this…"

"And you're going to end up killing yourself for this job, if you don't put a stop to this." Mike closed his eyes again, burying his face in his good hand. "Mike, they just gave you a gun when they _know_ you're unstable. You should still be on medical leave because of your broken arm, even without the mental issues. You're going to end up dying if they don't stop pushing you like this…"

"I know…" Mike replied, sighing.

"Have you talked to Nikki?"

"I don't think she even knows I'm back at Graceland." Mike bit down on his bottom lip. "I spent all this time training to be an agent, and I don't even know how to deal with this…"

"They don't train us for things like this, Mike. You're being pushed into a situation that no one could have expected when you were at Quantico… there's something seriously wrong here." Mike nodded slowly. "Let's get you something to eat, okay? We can't really do anything tonight, but we can at least make sure you're going to be okay until we can get this figured out."

Mike followed Paige down to the kitchen, leaning against the island as she started digging through the fridge to find something for Mike to eat. "I can make something for myself…"

"I don't trust you to eat properly. No offense, but you've lied about your eating habits too much lately."

"I thought Johnny was fucking with me when he said you were back…" Mike looked up at the sound of DJ's voice. "You shouldn't be here…"

"DJ…" Paige began.

"I think everyone in the house knows. But thanks for reminding me, Jakes," Mike replied, cutting the woman off. "Trust me, if I didn't have to be here I would still be in Arizona."

"What the hell is going on here, anyway? First Briggs disappears and then you show back up out of nowhere…"

"I'm supposed to be looking for Briggs…" Mike began.

"That's bullshit…"

"Tell that to everyone in the FBI who told me I had to come back and work this case."


	31. Out of Control

**The Things They Carried**

_Summary:_ The agents of Graceland are masters of keeping secrets. But sometimes, secrets have a way of coming back to haunt you.

_Disclaimer:_ I own nothing; _Graceland_ belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA.

_A/n:_ Woot… new chapter! I'm officially on fall break from school, and less than 24 hours away from my birthday, which is pretty exciting. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy… because it's 1 AM and I'm about to go write something else!

* * *

Mike could barely keep his eyes open as he stared at his computer screen, trying to figure out what to do next. He'd been hitting dead end after dead end ever since he'd gotten back to Graceland, and it was starting to take its toll on him. The fact that he hadn't really been able to sleep since he'd left rehab certainly wasn't helping anything, either.

"You should really go to bed already… it's after midnight, Mike…" Mike sighed, looking up at Charlie as she leaned against his door.

"I have to keep looking…"

"You aren't going to find anything if you're too exhausted to pay attention to what you're doing, Mike," Charlie commented. Mike knew she was right, but he also knew that he wouldn't actually be able to sleep until he was so exhausted he literally passed out.

"I have to do something here, Charlie… everyone is counting on me to find Briggs. And I don't know what else to do but keep looking…" Mike leaned back in his seat as Charlie approached his desk, shutting his computer. "Charlie…"

"You're going to make yourself sick if you don't take proper care of yourself here. And you have to be on top of your game to even hope to keep up with Paul…" Mike started to open his computer again, sighing as Charlie put her hand back on the lid and shook her head. "No. Go get ready for bed and get some sleep for a change. You've been up late every night you've been back, and you aren't sleeping in to make up for it. I would be surprised if you'd gotten twelve hours of sleep in the three days you've been back…"

"I just… I can't sleep unless I'm exhausted. I haven't been able to close my eyes for more than a couple of minutes since I got back… not unless I'm so tired I literally pass out. Not that it takes much for me to get that exhausted…"

"You still aren't eating, are you?" Mike shook his head slowly.

"I want to make this work… I want to be better and to do the job like I'm supposed to. But I feel like I'm drowning here, and no one outside of the house seems to give a shit." Mike closed his eyes, sighing. "This isn't working."

"Have you tried talking to anyone about this? Someone who could actually do something about it?"

"Clarke doesn't want to listen. And I haven't seen Nikki since I got back…" Mike could hear Charlie sigh.

"God, Mike… you have to stop doing this to yourself. You have to go see Nikki in the morning and talk to her about what's going on. Surely she can get you out of this…"

"Charlie, if the only way out of this is losing my job…" Mike began.

"Then so be it… Mike, I get that this job is your life. But if you aren't willing to risk that to save yourself, it's not going to be much of a life. You can't keep doing this to yourself."

"I know…"

"Then why aren't you already fighting this?" Charlie asked.

"Because I'm terrified of the consequences… I have nothing outside of this house and this job, Charlie. I can't depend on my family, I have no relationships to speak of… I have nothing to keep me going if I lose all of this."

"Mike…"

"I'm serious, Charlie. This job is the only thing I've ever really wanted in my life… I don't know what I'm going to do if I lose this." Mike opened his eyes, looking up at the woman. "I have to keep working on this investigation. I have to find Briggs."

"You have to take care of yourself, Mike. You're going to end up killing yourself if you try to keep this up, and I can't just sit here and watch you do that. If you won't go to Nikki, I will." Mike nodded slowly, sighing. "Get to bed, okay? Do you want me to drive you in the morning?"

"No… I'll be okay. I'd rather go by myself, to be honest. It's probably going to take a while." Mike watched as Charlie nodded, motioning towards the bathroom door.

"Go get ready for bed, okay? You really need to get some rest." Mike nodded, sighing as he stood up. He had to stop for a moment, holding on to the desk because of the sudden dizziness that had started to return every time he stood up. "You okay?"

"Just a little dizzy," Mike replied. He wasn't really surprised when Charlie put a hand on his arm, but he pulled away from her. "I'm okay, really… I just need a second."

"How much have you eaten today?" Charlie asked. Mike shrugged, closing his eyes for a moment. He'd been home alone most of the day, following what little paper trail he had to its inevitable dead end. And with no one else around to remind him, he really hadn't been able to make himself eat more than a few bites of anything. "Mike…"

"I have to eat… I know. I just got caught up with everything going on and didn't really think about it…"

"Bullshit." Mike sighed, shaking his head. "You can't keep skipping meals, Mikey…"

"I'm trying here, Charlie. But this isn't exactly something I'm in control of, okay? I haven't been in control for a long time." Mike opened his eyes, looking at the woman for a moment. "I can't do this on my own, but that's what everyone is expecting of me right now."

"You know that if we could help you, we would… but none of us really know what to do here…"

"I know." Mike reached out and took the woman's hand, squeezing it gently. "I should probably go get ready for bed."

"Don't go back to work, Mikey. Not until you've talked to Nikki in the morning, okay? You need help…"

"I know."

* * *

Mike knocked on the office door, waiting silently and praying that Nikki wouldn't be busy. He didn't really know how many people Nikki actually dealt with on a daily basis, but there was no indication on her door that she was busy.

"Mike? What are you doing here? You're supposed to be in Arizona, and I know they wouldn't have released you this quickly…" Nikki commented, opening the door and letting him into her office. He didn't want to say anything until he was safely inside, so he waited until the door was closed to say anything. "What's going on? Why are you here?"

"My training officer disappeared last week. Four days ago, I got a call telling me I needed to come back to Graceland to investigate what happened to him…" Mike began.

"What the… Mike, there are dozens of other agents who could have taken this case. There was no reason for you to leave treatment to take this case…"

"I wasn't given an option." Mike watched as Nikki sighed, shaking her head and settling back behind her desk.

"Have a seat, Mike." Mike did as he was told, settling into his usual spot to watch as she pulled out his file and started making more notes almost immediately. "Who told you that you had to come back to work on this case?"

"Juan Badillo… under instructions from Clarke. I don't know all of the details of how the decisions were made, but they seem to think that I'm the only one capable of figuring out where Paul Briggs is and why he disappeared…" Mike looked down at his hands, sighing. "I'm not going to lie, Nikki… I'm completely out of control here. And I have no clue what to do or where to go from here, other than to ask for your help."

"We'll get this sorted out, okay? Have you spoken to anyone back in Arizona since you left? Did they talk to you about any kind of continuing therapy or further treatment before you checked out?"

"There wasn't time," Mike replied, shaking his head. "I was only given a few hours' notice that I had to come back out here. They were trying to talk me out of leaving, but I didn't think I had a choice here…"

"Mike, you always have a choice." Mike nodded as Nikki looked up from what she had been writing.

"But can it legitimately be considered a choice if it means I have to give up my job, meaning I would lose my insurance and my ability to pay for treatment?"

"No… Mike, no matter what they might have told you, even an Assistant Director can't fire an agent in a situation like this. Not without serious legal repercussions, which I'm sure Clark is fully aware of."

Mike closed his eyes. "Somehow I doubt the illegality of the action would stop Clarke from trying. There's no way I could afford a legal battle like that, and getting my job back would be nearly impossible…" Mike watched as Nikki began writing again, somewhat faster than before. "What are you writing?"

"Notes on what you're telling me, so that I know who I need to go to with this information and who needs to be reprimanded for their role in this mess… what they've been doing to you is illegal, and there is no way you should be back in the field in your current state. Even without the mental health issues, they shouldn't be asking you to be anywhere near a case while your arm is still healing."

"So you're going to pull me out of the field?"

"When was the last time you actually managed to eat a full day's worth of meals in a 24 hour period?"

"Before I left Arizona," Mike admitted.

"If that's the case, I have no choice but to pull you off this case. My concern is your mental and physical health… the only reason I give a shit about your case is because it's affecting your health. And I'm afraid that if I don't pull you out now, it might be too late."


	32. Do You Trust Me?

**The Things They Carried**

_Summary:_ The agents of Graceland are masters of keeping secrets. But sometimes, secrets have a way of coming back to haunt you.

_Disclaimer:_ I own nothing; _Graceland_ belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA.

_A/n:_ Okay, so HUGE trigger warning in this chapter – there's a discussion of suicide that might upset some people, so please don't read after the first scene if you might be triggered!

* * *

Mike felt sick to his stomach as he left Nikki's office, knowing that he'd just started a process that he couldn't stop. Nikki was on the warpath now that she knew what had been going on since he'd left Arizona, and there wasn't anything he could do to stop her from starting an investigation.

The bathroom just down the hall from Nikki's office was thankfully empty as Mike hurried inside, locking himself inside one of the small stalls and kneeling over to retch. There really wasn't anything in his stomach to bring up other than bile, but it took his stomach a few tries before it gave up. Mike sighed as it finally stopped, closing his eyes for a moment before he could stand up and clean himself up a bit. He got a few sips of water out of the sink, drying his hands as his phone started ringing.

"Hello?"

"_Dude… where are you?_" Mike sighed at the sound of Johnny's worried voice on the other end of the line.

"I just got out of talking to Nikki…" Mike began, leaning against the wall. He felt exhausted and kind of dizzy after being sick.

"_You need to get your ass back to the house, like, now… Clarke is here with a crime scene crew, and they want everyone here while they search the house…_"

Mike sighed, shaking his head as he walked out of the bathroom and headed towards the building's exit. "You've got to be kidding me…"

"_I wish I was, dude… they're starting with Briggs' room, but they want to search the whole house._"

"They can't start on that without everyone being there?" Mike sighed, trying to balance his phone so that he could dig his keys out of his pocket. "I don't know that I can be around Clarke right now…"

"_If I could get you out of it, dude, I would. But he's saying that everyone has to be here, and they won't leave until they've looked everywhere._"

"Right… I'll be there soon."

Mike started feeling sick again as he got closer to the house, knowing that this probably had something to do with his investigation. He really wasn't sure what was going to happen once he stepped inside, but he knew that this wasn't going to end well.

There were multiple vehicles sitting in the parking area by the house, and they were definitely conspicuous looking. Mike sighed, walking towards the front door and flashing his badge to the officer standing just inside the front door before joining his roommates in the living room.

"This is bullshit…" Jakes began.

"DJ, chill," Charlie replied.

"No, I'm not going to chill… I don't understand _why_ they're pulling this shit, but I know it has something to do with Mike and Briggs…"

"I don't know what's going on here any more than you do," Mike corrected, shaking his head. "I was downtown at the office, and I didn't hear anything about this until Johnny called me." Mike sat down on the couch next to Paige, closing his eyes.

"God… you're so pale…" Mike didn't even struggle as the woman took his hand, feeling for his pulse. He tried to ignore it as she moved her fingers to his neck, clearly not happy with what she was finding. "Were you sick earlier?"

"Yeah… not that there was anything to bring up."

"Shit… Levi…" Mike sighed at the disappointment that was evident in DJ's voice. It was bad enough to hear everyone else upset with him, but it was so rare for Jakes to care enough to actually be upset about what Mike was doing to himself.

"I know… I'm a fuck up."

"You're sick… there's a _big_ difference." Mike let his head rest against Paige's shoulder as she stroked his hair.

"Agent Warren… glad you could finally join us." Mike opened his eyes at the familiar sound of Clarke's voice. "We're going to start with your room, if you'd care to follow me."

"I don't have anything in my room to hide, Agent Clarke."

"With all due respect, sir… there's only one agent in this house that you have any right to treat like a criminal. And he's been missing for ten days."

"I'll take that under consideration, Agent Arkin. But in the meantime, I'm the one in charge here, and I intend to conduct this investigation in the manner I see fit. Agent Warren?" Mike stood up slowly, closing his eyes as his knees started to give out. He was thankful when Paige stood up to make sure he stayed on his feet.

"You still going to insist he's healthy enough to be here after seeing him nearly pass out just from standing up?" Charlie asked.

"He's free to leave at any time Agent DeMarco… Agent Warren is here by his own choice."

"It isn't much of a choice when the alternative is to lose my job." Mike opened his eyes as he spoke, shaking his head slightly. "This is illegal, and everyone in this room knows it."

"The only thing I know is that you are being insubordinate, and that isn't acceptable," Clarke replied. Mike closed his eyes, setting his jaw and taking a deep breath to stop himself from doing something stupid. "Now, I expect you to follow me."

* * *

Mike sat on the beach, staring out at the waves. As everyone in the house had expected, Clarke's search hadn't turned up anything suspicious on any member of the house – Briggs included. But somehow that knowledge didn't make Mike feel any better.

"Mind if I come sit with you?" Mike glanced up at the sound of Paige's voice, shrugging slightly before turning back to the water. "You haven't said a word since Clarke left… are you okay?"

"I'm starting to feel like I only have one way out…" Mike began, closing his eyes. "I know that I promised I wouldn't do anything stupid, but sometimes I wish I had the guts to put the damn gun in my mouth and pull the trigger."

"Mike…" Mike shrugged off Paige's arm as she tried to put it around his shoulders. "Mike, look at me, please." Mike sighed, turning to face the woman. "Are you really considering hurting yourself?"

"I don't see another way, Paige. I'm going to die on this job one way or another… I don't want to starve to death, but I'm not strong enough to stop on my own…"

"Mike…"

"I was so close this afternoon… right after Clarke left my room, I nearly pulled out the damn gun and ended it right there, with all of them still in the house… but I couldn't bring myself to do it." Mike closed his eyes again, lying down in the sand. "I had the gun in my hand, Paige."

"Do you trust me, Mike?" Mike opened his eyes, looking up at the woman.

"Why are you asking me that?"

"Just answer the question – do you trust me?"

"Of course I do."

"Enough to let me take you somewhere, without asking any questions?"

"Paige…"

"You need help, Mike… and I'm afraid that Nikki won't be able to get you out of here fast enough. Please… let me help you."

"How?" Mike asked.

"You said you trust me."

"I do," Mike replied. "But I want to know what's going to happen. I'm a control freak, Paige… I just want to know."

"Mike, you just told me that you seriously considered committing suicide. I'm going to do the only thing any rational person in my place _can_ do…" Paige began. Mike nodded slowly, knowing what the woman meant.

"You're going to put me on suicide watch."

"I don't have a lot of choice…"

"Okay." Mike watched as the woman looked down at him, clearly confused. "Paige, I want a way out. I _need_ a way out of this."

"You'll go willingly?" Paige asked.

"I… it would probably help my case if I didn't go willingly." Mike watched as Paige nodded, understanding what he meant. "Clarke will be pissed…"

"Clarke will have to get over it. Nikki's phone number is in your phone, right?"

"Yeah…"

"I'll call her as soon as we get to the hospital, let her know what's going on," Paige commented, reaching out a hand to help him sit up again.

"We're doing this right now?"

"Mike… I don't trust you to not do anything stupid right now." Mike sighed, closing his eyes again. "You're unstable – you've said it yourself. And honestly, the thought of anything happening to you terrifies me." Mike finally reached out to take the woman's hand, pulling himself up into a sitting position. "You know that you might end up in the hospital for a while if you do this, right?"

"Maybe that's what I need," Mike admitted. "But I should call Nikki, before we go…"

"No… I don't want there to be any risk of Clarke finding out what we're doing and trying to stop us. You need help, and you need it now."


End file.
